Recast Steel: Sedition
by Niko Nightwind
Summary: Sequel to Survival. In a world where Libra fell 3 years ago, eventually your wounds have been licked clean & there's more to life than just getting by. Sometimes conflict, a revolution, becomes inevitable... and who wouldn't want to win?
1. Ordinary

_**Ordinary**_

_Because everyone has their own definition for the plain and the exceptional._

**_oOo_**

* * *

** And we're back! **

** And it's April 7****th**** – just because the story **_**has**_** to start on an auspicious day and/or the world revolves around Relena… *snorts* Or something, at any rate. It's now the third anniversary of the start of the altered Operation Meteor carried out by the gundam pilots. Incidentally, Relena's turning eighteen on this day, so we can roughly gauge everyone else's age from there. **

** Also, it's the future and very international and was never specified or shown in canon, so I vote the new school year for all boys and girls (the ones bothering to go) starts toward the end of March. **

** If you've wandered in here on accident, be warned that **_**this is a sequel to my fic 'Survival'.**_** You can read this first if you really feel you must, but you're going to get lost damned fast if you do, the plotline is rather involved…**

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

**April 7****th**** 198 – Saturday – Plzeň, Czech Republic – Early Morning**

"Good morning, young man!" Calista called out.

The blonde teenager blinked, then turned and smiled back at her, looking a little sheepish. After a considering glance, he shrugged and walked over. Calista felt her smile widen; she could see him smelling the air now in a happy sort of way. _Another customer._

As he reached the stand, he folded his hands into his pockets in an oddly… formulated way. "You must be having a good morning," he decided.

"It's always a good morning," she returned happily. "I'm still here to greet you, aren't I?" She allowed him a moment to react to that, which had him shrugging, before moving onto business. "What can I get for you?"

He blinked as though confused for a moment before glancing at the menu above his head and frowning. "I'm afraid I can speak the language but not read it… what would you recommend?"

"Are you new to the area?" she asked curiously.

He shook his head, and for a moment that looked as thought that was all he would say, but then he admitted, "I've never stayed long, is all."

"Ah." Well it wasn't any of her business in any case. "How about some koláce?" When he only tilted his head slightly, she smiled and started putting it together. "It's a kind of pastry, very traditional…"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Gent, Belgium**

Kaelyn shared a smile over the booths with Suzanne across the diner as she brought breakfast over to the group of young people at table three. It was a fairly busy morning, but not so much that she couldn't appreciate their antics. They had been overly excitable the moment they had come in, trying to tease her as readily as they were each other… and it was a nice change from the usual taciturn morning crowd that stared into their coffee mugs without break.

"Here we are," she murmured as she came up and one of the men smacked another in the arm, apparently over something he had just said, while the rest tried not to break out snickering again. "Spinach and Mushroom Omelette, one Breakfast Sampler, a Viva La French Toast Combo-"

"Traitor," the blonde man quipped, making the others snort even as the other stuck out his tongue and happily took his French toast from her.

"And one Decadent Dally Blueberry Stack," Kaelyn finished, saying the silly name of the pancake entrée with a bit more flair than she normally did, winking at them… and laughing herself as the youngest-looking of the men winked back at her. Feeling a little silly herself, she set the plate down in front of the one girl in the group as if it were something precious, which set the blonde woman giggling a bit helplessly as she eyed the five inch tall stack in pure disbelief.

"Oh my God… how did you talk me into this?" she asked as she stared at it.

"That is _definitely_ decadent," the youngest decided as he speared a sausage off his plate.

"I can't eat that much," she protested. "I'm not even sure how to cut _into_ it without the whole thing falling over…"

"Carefully," the blonde returned easily, and she rolled her eyes.

"Extra carefully," added the man across the table, cutting into his French toast.

"Extremely carefully," the youngest continued, not missing a beat.

The woman started to giggle again as the blonde reached across the table and smacked a piece of toast out of the youngest's hand… and stuck it in his own mouth. "You have no manners, Lin." He started rooting around in his pockets.

"He's already eating!" he protested, gesturing at…

"Oh my goodness!" Kaelyn protested, staring in dismay at the plate that she would have _sworn_ was already halfway empty… though most of it seemed to currently still be in his mouth. The man looked happy as a clam, though… "I'll get you folks some more coffee," she muttered as she realized their mugs were low and that she was just standing there watching them.

"David is a lost cause," she heard the blonde continue behind her, still around the toast. "And in any cashe he's eading _French toasht_, ja traitor…"

"Ah rike rensh shoast, uck oo," the man returned, not even pausing. The woman's giggles were getting more high-pitched.

"Aright, let's top you all off," Kaelyn muttered, having come back with the carafe… and blinking at the candle now sticking out the top of the pancake stack, as the blonde man dropped the toast out of his mouth onto his omelette and flicked open a lighter.

"Alright, Dave, now prove you can swallow _without_ losing it all on me this time, so you can sing…"

"You promised no singing!" the woman protested.

"Gross!" the youngest protested, looking like he wanted to edge away from David, and panicking upon remembering he was on the inside of the booth.

"And _he_ promised _me_ he'd never eat that in front of me again, to stave off the trauma," the blonde retorted. "And I said _I_ wouldn't sing. I'm making _him_ sing."

"It's your birthday?" Kaelyn asked a little more loudly than she might have otherwise, catching the attention of all the other servers.

The young woman hid her face in her hands and groaned.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**L2 – Late Morning**

"I'm home," Leia called out as she stepped inside the house, turning to close the door behind her. "Marie?"

"Just a minute," her daughter called back distractedly. "Just let me finish translating this sentence…"

Leia smiled, moving to her room to change out of her scrubs; at least she'd only had a few clinic hours to take care of that morning. Thankfully, Odin had been far from against widening the scope of Marie's education to include more formal subjects, especially when she had suggested German. The practical uses had probably helped, of course, but she wanted them to agree on things whenever possible… so she wasn't going to work on him for things like Marie's need to fully understand formal grammar and essay writing for a while yet. Marie was so far entirely willing to go along with whatever Odin insisted on, and Leia wasn't entirely interested in testing her boundaries just yet.

Meagan had raised her far more than she had, after all… she had always been the one Marie came to for fun and pure love, never discipline. She didn't think her daughter would reject her or be obstinately disobedient, but she still wasn't confident enough yet to entirely believe that being more authoritative might make her lose her little girl's affections.

She really appreciated Odin's role in their lives in some ways.

Marie was walking up to her as she came back out of her closet. "We can pick up the pottery tomorrow, right?"

"Probably," Leia temporized. "They said they were busy, so they might not have room in the kiln until around closing tomorrow." It had been a fun little thing to do… there was a shop a little ways away that had you paint bits of pottery in whatever design you liked before they glazed and fired it so it was normal and glossy. And of course, it was quite a novelty to girls raised in high society, where they had never washed dishes, let alone _made_ them.

Marie nodded a little to herself, thinking for a moment, then met her eyes again. "I found a recipe I want to try for dinner later, but we don't have everything we need in the house."

Leia smiled. "Well, let's go to the store, then." Walking back out to the kitchen, she added, "Though we should check for a few other things we're low on first and make a list." She pursed her lips. "When did Odin say he would be back?"

"Another three days at the soonest, six at most."

She didn't question how immediate that answer was; after all, the two of them had been practically inseparable since they had met. And really, after having him in her home for the past three months, it was strange to not come home and see him laid up on the couch showing Marie something off the computer or out of a book. Once he'd come back, though, he'd likely stay for a few days then leave again, taking Marie with him this time, German textbook and all… It was safer that way. Now that he was able to move about easily, it was best for both of them to stay somewhat on the move… though she had already extracted promises from both of them about keeping in touch while they wandered about Odin's business.

"It feels odd to not come home and have him ask me why I wanted to paint the walls red as if it's the strangest thing he's ever heard of," she admitted. "I'd only just gotten used to his odd questions, and he runs off on some intergalactic errand with no warning." Marie grinned broadly at her, so she added, "Shame on him, mixing me up just when I'd gotten firm footing again."

Marie giggled a little at that. "It's what he's good at, Mom."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Prague – Around noon**

"So… hi."

He couldn't help but cringe a little as the other teenager gave him a… disbelieving sort of look. _Okay, that sounded a little stupid…_ Before he could think of something else to say in recovery, though, the blonde simply returned it. "Hi."

…Still giving no opening to start any kind of real conversation. And it wasn't like they had any kind of real connection, or even knew each other's real _names_… The only thing he knew that they probably agreed on was politics, and that was _not_ a conversation to have in public.

He'd only been told enough to understand that relations with this guy were important, but not _why_. So he figured he'd do his best to make a decent impression, and do good at the job of escorting him out to the hidden hanger despite the fact that he almost never left his desk and computer and had _never_ done anything like this before. He'd tried to protest, but had been told he was the only one at hand who was both not working on something critical and had no record to be recognized for, which eliminated most of the risk of being caught out. Then it had been noted that they were about the same age so they should be able to travel as friends or cousins without anything seeming odd about them…

But someone had forgotten to mention how _odd_ the guy was. And he refused to believe that they hadn't known, because it was far too obvious to be missed.

He blinked as he realized that the guy'd said something, ran it back through his head… "What? Why?" _Why would he think I wasn't okay?_

He blinked back. "You're… skittish." When Neil decided not to even try responding to that one, he frowned slightly. "I don't know your name."

…Po wanted him to _blend in_ with this guy? "Neil."

The blonde smiled a little. "Odin." After another moment, he added, "You're not used to carrying."

His heart stopped. "_What?_" he demanded in a hiss.

Odin leaned back slightly, looking surprised at Neil's reaction to being casually told he was carrying a _gun_ when they'd only known each other for maybe three minutes. Neil _was_ carrying, and yeah, he didn't all that often, but-

"You need to keep it somewhere less obvious, or wear baggier clothes," the blonde continued casually. "The bulge shows." He gave Neil an expectant look. "We're not going anywhere until you fix it."

Neil stared at him for a moment, mouth dry, trying to decide if he was being belittled… or if 'Odin' was honestly trying to be _helpful_.

"You're a risk to Po's operation too when you make mistakes like that, not just yourself." He tilted his head slightly. "Find somewhere private and I'll keep watch so you're not caught out."

He had the sinking feeling that this was going to be a _long_ day.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Amsterdam**

"Kay!" Heavy steps clambered up the staircase. Amos swung through the doorway with a grin as Duo looked up. "Customer needs you," he explained cheerfully before focusing on the suddenly _awake_ infant. "Oops."

Duo rolled his eyes and threw back the blankets; he'd only _just_ gotten her to sleep too. "Congratulations," he informed the war orphan as he handed over the grumpy infant. "Have a baby." Amos just sighed a little resignedly as his teacher jammed his feet into his shoes. _He'd_ been almost asleep too… He really hadn't needed the nap, but that didn't mean he wasn't groggy from being jolted back awake.

"Hey, Nene," Amos cooed, bouncing the little girl slightly before trying to tuck her more against his chest… and she was just tired enough to not resist too much. Duo smiled a little at the image. Amos, unlike Nolan, was _good_ with kids… which made sense, seeing as he had half-raised the younger ones at the church. Melissa's little brother just didn't have the patience for Renee… or really for anyone beyond his textbooks, half the time.

_Speaking of…_ "What time is it?"

"Um… two something." The boy tried to settle Renee into more of a horizontal position, but she wasn't having it. "Two twenty?"

Huh, he'd only been actually dozing for maybe ten minutes. _And Nolan's not due back for another hour or so, so Nee should be down by then._ "Thanks." He pulled on a sweater as he stepped out on the landing. No one was in the little entry area, so he hurried down the stairs and swung into the garage with a smile. "Can I help you?"

Melissa offered him a little smile as the customer, a man who looked like he was somewhere in his thirties, gave him an appraising look. "You're Kasey von Koll?"

"Sure am." A slew of other things too, but he'd settle for plain Kasey. "Did someone recommend you to us?" Referrals were _gold_, really, and he tried to make it up to the people who'd given them; it was good business.

"Ah, yes…" He gestured to a piece of equipment resting on the table. "Your wife here said you were familiar with this model, but it's a tricky thing, and the last guy I asked pretended he was better than he was…"

Duo frowned, moving around to look. "Who did you go to?" Reading the brand name, he fought off a grimace. "Oh, yeah, the Keirens can be nasty… slapdash construction, bad coding, you shift one thing and half the time you fuck up something else, and the parts aren't standard so you have to alter any replacement components… Mm, this is an 1840-IS… I've played with the 1840-F model more than a few times, this one shouldn't be much different… I think the main difference was supposed to be a shift in the fan arrangement, but I can look it up tonight to be sure." He met the man's eyes. "How soon do you need it back? Anything from Keiren is probably going to take me more than a day, even if it turns out you only have one issue to work though." He let out a little chuckle. "I'm sorry… I still need to ask what it's hurting for in the first place, huh?"

The man let out a deep belly laugh, obviously pleased. "Well, Raymond _did_ say you knew what you were about… You've about won me over." He shook his head a little. "I don't need it for a few more weeks, really, but the sooner I get it back the better. Can you get me a price estimate?"

Melissa stepped back out from the office – she'd left the garage while he was eying the pile of scrap that had the nerve of trying to pass off as viable technology – with the paperwork they had for everyone they worked with. "We have a base set price for looking into it, then with jobs like this we normally get in touch with you once we find the problem and know if we're going to have to get any parts, or if it's-"

Renee let out an utterly pitiful wail, overhead. Duo sighed and gave 'Liss a tired look. "Are you _sure_ she had a full bottle earlier? She didn't pass it off on our invisible dog or something?"

Melissa sighed a little herself. "I think she's started teething."

"No," Duo decided.

"No?" The Dutch woman looked amused. "How do you know?"

"Because it needs to be something I can fix easy, like needing more solid food because she's still hungry after a bottle."

Their customer let out another belly laugh even as the baby started screaming outright; whatever Amos was trying, she was _not_ impressed. "Well, her lungs sound healthy… I wouldn't have thought you had a little one up there though. How old?"

"My niece," Duo explained. "She's ten months, now… my sister headed out to work an hour ago. Normally she's a dream, but…" He shrugged.

The older man chuckled. "It's around that age when they usually start to really be a handful," he confided. As Renee let out an even _louder_ scream, he shook his head. "I trust you know what you're doing, I can iron out the rest with Mrs. von Koll now if you need to look after your niece."

He offered the man a grateful smile before leaning over to peck Melissa on the cheek. "Thanks." Dashing back through the door, he called, "Amos?"

"I have _no_ idea!" the fourteen-year-old protested. Stepping out on the landing as Duo made his way up, he looked bewildered. "She's just _mad_."

The older teen grinned, shaking his head as he held out his arms and the little girl tried to practically leap out of Amos' grip into his own. "Nah… she just likes me better."

Amos scowled as Renee immediately went quiet and even went so far as to flop against his chest, breathing like she'd just run a marathon even though she'd barely started crawling. "That's so not fair," the kid grumbled. "Abby didn't do that…"

"Abby's always been used to anyone and everyone constantly poking her or picking her up," Duo reminded him, patting her back gently… wishing he'd grabbed a rag because he was _positive_ she was getting baby spit all over his shirt._ No, even better, __**toddler**__ spit…_ He tried to remember what she'd eaten so far today and how likely any of it was to leave a stain. "Nee's not against other people, but she's really only used to a few of us _really_ handling her, and when she's dumb tired she usually only takes to me or her mom." _Eh, at least it's a dark shirt… It'll just be baby spit crunchy._ He'd actively stopped wearing light-colored shirts around Renee after he couldn't get the damn carrots out of his white one.

"Why'd you hand her off then?" Apparently the orphan was altogether annoyed… maybe he and Nolan were friends for more than just the fact that they lived together.

Duo rolled his eyes. "Because I didn't _know_ she was that tired… Go help Melissa or something." _Maybe she'll crash now that she's tired herself out yelling…_ Toeing his shoes back off he headed back for the futon, glancing down at the again quiet child as he rubbed her back. "You wanna play favorites, huh? You hurt his feelings, you know… Yeah, nobody likes getting yelled at, sweetie, gotta try and be nice, huh?" She didn't really move in response to him talking to her, so he carefully sat back down on the blankets and shifted her weight, only to feel a soft tug…

She was chewing on a thick wrinkle of his sweater.

_Damnit, she __**is**__ teething…_

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**China – 10:00pm**

"And you used to complain about _me_ working too much…"

Shui didn't look up. "I'm only working eighteen hours a day once a week or so; you were doing it every _day_." He shook his head a little, leaning back in his chair to meet Wufei's eyes. "I'm _still_ not sure how you were doing that… You were only sleeping four hours."

Wufei shrugged, slipping out of his shoes. "I've never needed much sleep."

"Yeah I can tell," Shui noted tiredly. "You still barely sleep… Now you just get better food."

The other teenager snorted. "And yet I'm never sure if the food is really worth Xiu Juan's company."

"Must be, with how much time you spend over there." He grinned a little. "You always complain, but you still follow Kailì home all the time. You should bring some back for me."

Wufei snorted. "If I have to brave Lao and his family, you're not getting the benefits for free." Dropping onto his bed, he added, "You can go annoy Kailì enough to make him tase you all by yourself."

Shui just sighed. "I need to find people who _aren't_ insane to cook for me."

"Don't we all…" Leaning forward, he glanced over the page his roommate was working on. "So what's this now?"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Brussels – Evening**

Jake sighed a little as he stepped out into the courtyard, looking around… He knew she was out here, but he couldn't strictly _see_ her…

"I don't want to come inside yet."

He let out a morose chuckle as he made his way over to her, hands in pockets. "Even if I go thrash your brother for you?"

She wasn't looking at him. "He'd have you taken away from me."

Jake sighed again and shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. There was a fair chance that she was right… and even though he would be back fairly fast, the fact that Zechs had done it in the first place would hurt her deeply.

The prince had _not_ been impressed with either of their judgment after Amsterdam.

At first, it had been an almost moot point, recovering as he had been, and Relena too, having had a relapse after the strain from the riot. Then there had been the physical therapy, and starting to teach Relena to ingrain defensive responses, and they had begun to leave Brussels again for short trips at the end of February, doing the surveying of the hydroponics houses themselves instead of just sending Dorothy, checking in on areas Zechs grudgingly approved for her… His concern and paranoia had been obvious, but it was only to be expected after what had happened in Amsterdam – though Jake maintained that it could _not_ have in any way been their fault, or at all predictable. It was smothering, and patronizing as fuck, but he had been gritting his teeth and bearing it out, even as he hated being dismissed…

And then Heavyarms had shown up.

If he had found Zechs' attitude obnoxious before, Relena had found it nigh unbearable, even as she had fought to spend more time with her brother to gain his trust back, or to just get to know him… But the man _didn't_ trust her. In truth, he probably never had, really… and the fact that Relena was smart enough to realize that just hurt her all the more. Jake had always known that Zechs never trusted those around him, honestly _couldn't_ make himself lean back on those closest to him, but sweet, loving Relena couldn't even imagine thinking like that. Instead of confiding in her, the prince had locked her up and handled her with kid gloves, acting as though he cared while he stopped listening to her altogether... even when she was anything but a little girl after Amsterdam.

And in the week or so since Heavyarms' appearance, he had given up even any pretense of listening to her. Even canceling something as simple as have dinner with her on her birthday when he had nothing pressing occurring, despite having _promised_… He wasn't even willing to give her the kind of loyalty you would offer a precocious child now; he avoided her in passing, and had ordered his aides to simply turn her away.

The colonel had been hoping his old friend would at least make an exception for _today_, even for just an hour… But instead, when Jake had tried to yell at him for it, the man had calmly told him he was sure Relena understood his duties, and left the younger man to pick up the pieces.

He hadn't protested when she asked for some time alone.

Coming up behind her now, though, he grimaced out past the eaves at the falling rain. _At least she has common sense when being morose._ If she'd been actually standing in the pouring water he would've had to protest. "You must be cold enough by now," he noted instead.

"Cold enough," she agreed quietly. "Not quite numb yet, though." She looked over her shoulder to give him a wry look. "You know, three years ago, I would have insisted on standing out _in_ that."

Amused at how she was more or less mirroring his own thoughts, he gave her a tired grin of his own. "But you probably also would have given in and come back inside by now," he argued.

She chuckled slightly. "True." Sighing, she turned to face him a bit more and gave him a sad smile. "At least the rest of the day was fun."

"Yeah." Grinning slightly, he noted, "How long do you think it'll be before Dorothy forgives me for her jacket at lunch?"

She laughed at that, and his grin widened. Dorothy really _had_ been asking for it, in his opinion… though some might argue that he'd had a little bit too much fun making mischief today. "I wouldn't focus on forgiveness," Relena advised. "You should watch out for revenge."

"I'll keep it in mind." Falling quiet again, he stepped back to lean against the wall and watch the rain pattering down into the courtyard, lost in his own thoughts, letting his friend return to hers.

The imagery _did_ suit their moods.

He shifted his shoulder, testing its range of movement and stretching it subtly; recovering from an injury was never as simple as they tried to make it out to be in books or movies, and it was even worse when you were used to having a higher level of performance than was normal. He was healed, but the joint was still a long ways from what he deemed acceptable, let alone conditioned to the degree he demanded of his body.

He wondered if Zechs was finished healing from whatever was wrong with him yet. He had said before that he expected to be better by now, but so much had happened since then that could have disrupted the process… some small part of Jake wanted to believe that the prince was brushing his sister off so much because he was trying to hide that weakness the same way a wild animal would. That maybe he was being so avoidant because he was terrified, or clueless, and didn't want to risk anyone realizing it… That maybe he was on some kind of medication that was affecting his moods.

But at the same time, he thought he recognized rationalizing for what it was. And even if they were true they were still only excuses, if possibly good ones… and excuses didn't really matter in the long run, just effort and results. If Zechs couldn't grow up enough to not only acknowledge his mistakes, but step forward and do his best to actually _change_ what was happening, whatever the cost to himself, then there wasn't any point in him or Lena wishing. The Lightning Count was nothing if not stubborn.

And… Jake found himself not really caring what state of health his old friend was in. He'd had plenty of chances to back down or change already, and Jake had _tried_ to help too… Zechs had made his bed several times over now; he could lie in it.

It was nearly ten minutes before Relena spoke again. "Jake?" She didn't turn away from the rain to look back at him.

He did her the same courtesy of not focusing on her; the pattering rain was soothing, in a way. "Yeah?"

"…I'm not sure I can stay here any more."

He did focus on her at that, but she hadn't moved, and still seemed calm, so he waited.

"He doesn't really care, Jake. He doesn't care, and he's holding me back, and sooner or later if I stay here I'm going to lash out at him and find myself even more entrenched." Turning to meet his eyes, she asked, "I need you to look into potential places where we can go, that he'll allow but have little reach."

Her face was dry, and though her eyes were sad. She had that same steel he had seen in her ever since waking up after his surgery in December… that same deep resolution. _How can Zechs not see this?_ To be so willfully blind, to miss that she wasn't simply being strung along by her heart without her head to follow anymore, to think her still a willful child…

He gave her another sad smile. "Your brother is a moron."

Her returning smile said she appreciated the opinion.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**April 8****th**** 198 – Sunday – The Eastern Carpathian Mountains – Early Morning Hours**

Sally looked up as her office door opened, glancing at the clock and realizing she had lost track of time as she _knew_ who this was… Only to stifle a little laugh when Neil, one of her more normally techie-inclined fighters, came in first, looking absolutely wrung out. Heero, it seemed, had not lost his touch – or lack thereof – with people. A moment later, none other than Heero Yuy followed him in, eyes quickly sweeping the room, cataloguing all the details, she was sure. He was taller than she remembered, and shockingly blonde – though it suited him well enough – but the main difference she could immediately suss out was his almost casual posturing. He was more… loose-limbed; his body language didn't immediately scream that he was trained to be lethal, which made sense, if he'd been hiding for the past two years. Then he met her eyes and _smiled_… And for a second or two she was surprised enough to simply stare instead of smiling back.

She suspected, then, that far more had changed than his appearance.

Smiling broadly back now – it was _nice_ to see him show more emotion – she greeted, "You look well, Heero. I was starting to wonder if Chang had just dreamt meeting you last summer."

He shrugged a little. "I was busy. It took time to finish what I was doing and wrap up a few other loose ends." He tilted his head slightly. "I assumed that if you were in charge, your group would still hold some power by the time I was ready."

She nodded her head slightly, and gestured for both boys to sit; Neil had probably been through enough today that he deserved to know what service he'd done in bringing Heero into the fold. She had been worried about sending someone more recognizable, and Neil had played the guide well, even if he appeared to be at wit's end. "Xutao said you had thought he was Wufei?"

The gundam pilot shrugged. "I caught a glimpse of him in Jerusalem, after hearing him talk… they have the same accent, same build, and once I started following his hunters they were always referring to him as Chang." He frowned a little, looking to the side. "Quatre had disappeared two months before that… I suppose I was overly hopeful that I could find one of the others."

_Well, that answers one question._ "Wufei and Xutao share a large number of traits," she agreed. She took a deep breath before phrasing her next question. _Here goes nothing; he always did prefer the blunt approach._ "Is there any chance that you might be able to recreate the Zero System?"

He blinked; she got the impression that he hadn't been expecting that question. "I have the information to do so," he admitted after a moment. "But not the means." He appeared to think for another long moment. "I have the backup information from both Wing Zero and Sandrock, the blueprints to rebuild both the machines, but Zero… That's trickier." He frowned again. "You're aware that Treize is alive?"

Neil was gaping now as he realized exactly who he had spent his day being tormented by, and Sally couldn't help a little smile. Heero had never looked like much, but he was damn good at knocking people's feet out from under them. "I am," she assured. "I'm just not sure h-" An alarm starting to chirp cut her off. Standing, she beckoned to the young man who had once fought toe-to-toe against Zechs. "Heavyarms is on final approach," she explained over the noise. "Neil, you're dismissed." Exiting the room and walking towards the actual hanger, she continued explaining. "We've been taking control of all satellites capable of sensing it in this hemisphere in order to hide where it's coming home to as well as having installed it with cloaking abilities, and we're hoping they follow the cue we've left that there really is no change on control with the satellites. So far, they think we're just using the same kind of stealth systems as Deathscythe. Unfortunately, we haven't had any luck figuring that one out, in all reality. We've been trying, but apparently Professor G deserved his title of genius."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

"We've been trying, but apparently Professor G deserved his title of genius."

_Which means she hasn't found Duo yet,_ Odin concluded, grateful as the volume of the klaxon started to decrease. Sally went on to explain what they would have heard if the approach had looked risky or like the base might be in danger of discovery, and he carefully tucked the knowledge away as he continued to drink in the sight of the encampment around him.

They were organized and strong, that much was obvious. Far better equipped than he, Trowa, or Wufei had been before, and possibly better than even Duo or Quatre. Po was explaining now that this was one of several bases that MS could return to, each with the same precautions against being followed, while he had always been forced to find naturally shielding environments for shelter. The cloaking systems on the gundams other than Deathscythe had been nothing to laugh at, but not as reliable as one could hope.

Having some kind of home to return to was a luxury he was only just beginning to understand, but one he found he rather liked. Trowa had chosen well.

He wondered how well set up Treize was.

People were watching them curiously as they walked, though none approached. Most appeared to be a little bemused as to why Po was focusing so completely on him, but then he met eyes with one and saw recognition hit a moment before the man cursed and ducked down a different hall. He snorted slightly; Marie would probably appreciate hearing about that. She would probably also find the details of his slow traipse across Europe today funny in ways he didn't entirely follow as well… and would spend an hour or more afterwards trying to explain. He was actually looking forward to it; Neil had been beyond frustrating to deal with, and a little light shed on the situation would be more than welcome. Curious, he watched to see if anyone else reacted. One more did, though he was shadowed by the first, so had likely been told… And another looked highly calculative. He was probably worth keeping in mind.

They entered the hanger just as the doors began opening to the darkness, and he looked to his watch. It had taken time to travel inconspicuously all the way out here, and it was getting close to three in the morning… Dawn wouldn't be upon them for another four hours or so yet. It had been a good time to conduct a raid, though he didn't know the target yet, as it was likely only just now hitting the news.

A few Tauruses flew in first, carefully maneuvering into their docks, before he saw Heavyarms again. The modifications were far more obvious now, with it so close, moving slowly. In a lot of ways, it seemed as though it were practically a different machine altogether. Then again, he had been explaining to the Bartons just a week ago that the original design had been terribly impractical, and Po was proving herself nothing if not matter-of-fact and efficient. Soon enough the doors were closing again and the Taurus pilots were finishing their shutdown sequences and exiting their cockpits.

He hadn't ever really though of Trowa as the type to fight with lesser support at his back, before.

A medical team was helping one of the Taurus pilots out of his machine, holding a seeping cloth to his head even as mechanical crew was crawling into the machine at the same time, wanting to begin assessing damage to the suit as soon as possible, as it looked like it had taken a good beating overall. A few of the others showed some signs of damage as well, but only as much or less than he assumed the Maguanacs had incurred… and even as he thought that he focused on another of the pilots, wearing a traditional red cap and pulling at a long mustache in agitation.

_She has the Maguanacs?_ His opinion of Sally Po ratcheted up another few notches. She had mentioned that they had good relations at one point when he was on _Peacemillion_ with her, and of course Quatre was missing and the Maguanacs had been a fighting force to reckon with long before they had banded behind the gundam pilot, but… _How did she convince them to work for her?_ Po had shown time and again that she was obviously a good leader, but the Maguanacs, for all their talk of righteousness and equality, only followed those who were true warriors as well as compassionate. Rashid and Quatre had both in spades, but while Sally led well, she wasn't a terribly good _fighter_.

The immediate answer was that they might have taken to Trowa… but he dismissed the idea almost as soon as it came to mind. Trowa didn't have _any_ of the qualities the Maguanacs valued in great enough amounts for them to have considered it. Trowa and Quatre had greatly appreciated each other's company both before and after Winner's psychotic episode, but Trowa would _never_ be a leader; he lacked both the charisma and the staunch loyalty to singular ideas.

No… something else was going on here, and he was beginning to think he was about to be as caught off guard by it as he was by Xutao's face last July. He had missed something, something important. He had arrogantly made a jump of logic or an assumption somewhere along the line that had skewed all his predictions, his expectations.

He watched, feeling almost like he was in a trance, as the cockpit doors unfolded from the chest of the red mobile suit and a lithe figure waltzed out confidently, brushing back dark bangs. Dark clothes, hair in a ponytail falling to mid-chest, the pilot stepped quickly into the foot saddle of the lift cord as it immediately began to lower at an accelerated rate, jumped off when it was still two feet off the ground, and turned to face them properly and come forward at a brisk, predatory walk… And smiled at the sight of him. "Hey, Heero! It's good to see you. It took you long enough."

He never would have imagined her with long hair. Just the same, he couldn't stop the grin that tugged at his lips at the friendly, teasing greeting. "It did," he agreed. "It's good to see you too, Noin."

* * *

_**oOo**_

_**End Ordinary**_

_**oOo**_

* * *

** …You guys have **_**no**_** idea how long I've been wanting to write that… **

**Thoughts? Reviews? Please? I don't write **_**for**_** reviews, but it's worth bearing in mind that I had half shelved this at about four pages long until someone new (WindStar) popped up to review the other day and got me excited about the story again. I /do/ work faster with encouragement, or something… but as it goes. I'll get there eventually anyhow, and I really try to not make the wait as short as I can.**


	2. Scavenger Hunt

_**Scavenger Hunt**_

_Because it still counts, even if you don't know what's on the list._

**_oOo_**

* * *

** Okay, someone pointed out to me that it is a new story, and everyone's using false names, and this story and its universe is admittedly far less constant in your head than in mine, so… I'm not going to do this again, but I'll list off the **_**currently known**_** aliases and the names of some of the really main random characters in a cast of sorts… this is **_**not**_** all-inclusive… Though I may have managed to get carried away anyway…**

* * *

**Cast**

**01 – Heero Yuy**

**- - - ****-** Odin Lowe

**- - ****- - **"**Yukio"** _(while posing as an exchange student in Jerusalem – it'll never really be used again, I think…probably…)_

**Odin Lowe Sr.**_ (long deceased, an assassin who raised the boy now known alternately as "Heero Yuy" or "Odin Lowe")_

**Samuel Srona M.D.**

**Moira Srona**

**Mariemaia Barton/Khushrenada**

******- - - ****- **Mariemaia Barton

******- - - ****- **Mariemaia Benson

******- - - ****- **Marlé Leia Lowe

**Leia Barton**

******- - - ****- - -**Leyda Keissler M.D.

**Dekim Barton**_ (Leia's father – deceased)_

**Trowa Barton**_ (Leia's brother – was assassinated at the start of Operation Meteor and replaced by the teenager now known as Trowa Barton or Adam Bloom)_

* * *

**02 – Duo Maxwell**

**- - - ****- **"**Chaos" then shortened to "Kay"**

******- - - ****- **Kasey von Koll

**Melissa "'Liss" von Koll**_ (wife)_

******- - - ****- **Melissa Mehile

******- - -**** - **Melissa Maxwell

**William Mehile**_ (Melissa & Nolan's father)_

**Nolan Mehile**_ (Melissa's younger brother)_

**Amos van Romondt**

**Karina "Rina" von Koll**

**- - - ****- **"**Sin"**

******- - - ****- **Karina Tenbrook _(maiden name)_

**Lucas von Koll**_ (Karina's husband – deceased)_

**Doushovel "Shov" van Rhinn**

**Katrien Ruttenburg**_ (Devil; was with Relena during the Amsterdam riot)_

**Father Espen**

**Sister Isabel Agtmael**

* * *

**03 – Trowa Barton**

******- - - ****- **Adam Bloom

**Catherine Bloom**_ (sister)_

* * *

**04 – Quatre Raberba Winner**

* * *

**In China**

**05 – Chang Wufei**

******- - - ****- **Long Wu

**Yu Shui**_ (Wufei's roommate & fellow engineer)_

**Lao Kailì**_ (fellow engineer)_

**Lao Xiu Juan**_ (Kailì's wife)_

**Lao Yu Zi**_ (Kailì's oldest daughter)_

* * *

**06 – Milliardo Peacecraft**

******- - - ****- **Zechs Marquise

* * *

**Relena "Lena" Darlian-Peacecraft**

**Dorothy "Thea" Catalonia**

**Colonel Jacob "Jake" Miller**

**Jack Miller**_ (Jake's father)_

**Colonel David Mitchell**

**- - - ****- - -**"**Michael" – his codename when in reference to his work as an agent of Treize**

**Lieutenant Jerome "Rome" Moretti**_ (bodyguard of Relena's)_

**Lieutenant Lincoln "Lin" Sobrie**_ (bodyguard of Relena's)_

**Lieutenant Cassidy Foreman**_ (former bodyguard of Relena's; in strike force now, under Mitchell)_

* * *

**13 – Treize Khushrenada**

**- - - ****- - -**"**Tatem" or "Tate" – codename in emails from Váli and likely elsewhere**

**Lieutenant Colonel Sanchez (Treize's second)**

"**Váli"**

* * *

**In the Sahara**

**Roshan**_ (in charge of the Cambyses encampment being followed)_

**Robby**_ (leader of the Cambyses squadron being followed; trying to get them __out__)_

**Nick**_ (was in photography)_

**Cory**_ (young; anchors Robby and helps keep him calm when it's too much)_

**Razo**_ (actual friend to Robby; realizes that a lot of his 'psychosis' is an act)_

* * *

**Sally Po's Underground**

**Sally Po**

**09 – Lucrezia "Lu" Noin**

**Howard Oclaire**

**Hilde Schbeiker**

**Chang Xutao****  
**

_**oOo**_

_**oOo**_

* * *

_**oOo**_

**April 10****th**** 198 – Tuesday – Libya**

The door opened slower than he remembered, started and stuttered a few times… but it _did_ still open.

He was glad; he'd been searching for this place for long enough that finding it only to not be able to gain entrance would have been more than he could take. He doubted it was still supplied, but from the looks of what he'd seen so far, no one had known it was here to try to scavenge it.

And the passcode hadn't changed. The tiny part of his mind that he left unchecked crowed with victory.

Stepping inside, he sniffed experimentally and brought out a flashlight, casting it around the hall to refresh his memories. It had taken him months to estimate the abandoned base's location when he didn't have anything to judge latitude and longitude by, then months more to find the time to look for it without being discovered. It had given him a goal, something to hold onto to keep from slipping off the precipice and back into despair, a way to cope with the harsh winter and spring… and in the end it was a good thing.

They had a better chance of success if they had a safe place to retreat to. He suspected it wouldn't stay safely hidden for long if it was actively sought, and he knew that even now he had little chance of making it even to this relative safety… but it was one more point in their favor.

He would take any advantage he could; he'd long since lost any sense of propriety. Honor hadn't lasted much longer.

Looking at his watch, he decided that, for tonight, knowing would have to be enough. It was time to leave.**  
**

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**April 12****th**** 198 – Thursday – Zheleznogorsk, Russia**

He watched the group of teenagers with an amused sort of curiosity, laughing and shoving playfully at one another… the girls clustering together ahead of the men periodically and the men just rolling their eyes. The redhead of the group was as lively as he remembered, wearing what was obviously the coat of one of the men with them, and she fit in with her friends well.

She was just as beautiful as she had been last year.

Odin briefly wondered if she had settled enough to have a _regular_ boyfriend, or if this one was just passing through as well. After a moment's consideration, he decided it really didn't matter to him… and that it really hadn't mattered before, either. He had known more or less exactly what he was getting into at the time, and despite general society's disapproval of women who behaved thus, he mostly… considered it part of her charm. It was just a different path, and she certainly seemed happy enough with her situation… Why was it that anyone thought they should begrudge others that? It was hardly their business, he would think, unless they were in the same situation, and then why would they denounce it in any case?

The more he learned about people, the stranger he found himself deciding they were.

Shaking his head, he focused back on Dasha, debating. That same breathtaking vitality was still there, that same enjoyment in life purely for the sake of indulgence, as she teased and sidled up to the man whose coat she was wearing. For a moment he smirked as he wondered if she had picked _him_ up while he was entirely minding his own business as well. It was an amusing notion, considering how convinced he had been that fiddling with his little game machine would remove him from anyone's attention… but Dasha defied the rules around her. The fact that she had drawn him out in the first place said something about what kind of person the Russian woman was.

He had been vaguely curious to see if he would feel jealous to find her with another man, and relieved that the emotion hadn't cropped up; as he had been perfectly aware of how she would progress in her life, and experiencing jealousy have been beyond ridiculous of him. He felt no particular longing either, seeing her again… which was also good, as it would have confused him: he had not missed her at any point in the past ten months, after all. There was still something enchanting about her that drew his attention… but he felt no particular urge to make his presence known either. It might be nice to interact with her again… yet he found he had no interest in pursuing the train of thought, let alone the act itself.

He couldn't help but feel that this was significant somehow… and he didn't think Marlé could explain this one. He honestly wasn't sure he could explain it to himself… but he'd felt the urge to come back to Russia and see, so he had. The sense of urgency had come from seemingly nowhere, but… well, he hadn't had any real reason to deny it, so he had… followed it.

Odin had always told him to follow his heart, his emotions, so as not to regret anything he ever did, never… gain that same degree of self-reproach his father had always had. It was far too late for him to escape that, having been stripped of Odin's code during his training for Operation Meteor, but… he liked to think that the universal forgiveness he had been offered by every family member of those aboard Treize's shuttle at New Edwards had meant something just as titanic as the deaths of those innocents. He had reverted back to Odin's lessons with a harsh tilt, seeking an honest death to pay back what he had done, but instead of being judged he had… found that his father's morals could hold far further than he had imagined.

He had been trying to find his father's footsteps again ever since he had woken from his three-month coma in Trowa and Catherine's circus trailer. It had been more impossible than he could have imagined, but slowly… life had become more than going through the motions. He owed that change to a countless number of people, Duo, Relena, Trowa, Sally, Quatre, the Sronas, Marlé, Dasha, any of the people he had even tried to make conversation with in his travels… Noin too, now.

He had followed a whim to come here, and he was vaguely amused by the fact. Both in his wanting to, and in the fact that he had _allowed_ the gratification… such was still a novelty sometimes, even now that it had ceased to be uncommon. Some part of his mind wanted to snap that it was frivolous, that there was nothing to gain… but as Marlé would tell him, he was sure, sometimes it not being important was the entire _point_ behind doing something.

And now that he was here, and he had simply seen Dasha from a distance… he wanted to go south again. He didn't even want to wait for the next bus, really… he wanted to just… be back in the Carpathians _now_. And it was a stronger want than coming here had been, too. There was… just _something_…

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_ "Hey, Heero." _

_ He turned at the greeting, curious… it was a little disconcerting to be called 'Heero' again, after so long, but he didn't mind. "Noin." _

_ She tilted her head slightly as she focused on him, a slight smile on her lips. It was the same considering gaze as before, one that he had rarely seen her without… and then she quirked one brow and genuinely __**smiled**__, something he was positive he hadn't seen in the past… though he was willing to admit that that might have as easily been from a lack of attention as it could of action. _

_ "Are you on a schedule?" When he frowned at her, her lips briefly quirked again. "Are you busy? If you've the time, I have something that needs doing that could use your expertise." _

_ He blinked, then felt a smile of his own start to rise. Something in his chest lifted at the idea of a mission…excitement? Anticipation? Not quite the right words, he thought, but Marlé wasn't there to make him try to sort it out… but the idea felt __**good**__. _

_ There were a few things he wanted to check on first… But he wasn't sure he had felt like this since… _

_ He couldn't remember if he had. _

_ Her expression had changed, and he blinked again, trying to decipher it… but even as it shifted again, he only caught… a contented kind of amusement. A sort of questioning air…? Oh. _

_ "After a couple days." He had told Marlé a week; it had only been a third of that. _

_ She merely nodded and held out a hand, gesturing for him to give her his phone._

_~oOo~~oOo~_

Turning away from the more crowded areas, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped through the pre-programmed numbers, checking the time. He'd already taken care of his immediate errands and wasted a …suitable… amount of time on a… tangent. The same part of his mind that growled over his efficiency when he let something slide – the one that sounded remarkably like his superiors in training for Operation Meteor – supplied the terms 'wasting valuable time' and 'loose end'.

He grinned, feeling smug and happy and little flippant. The words matched the situation, of course… but he liked these ones better. It didn't _matter_ what words he used anymore… he could play with any kind of phrasing that caught his attention. He could feel his grin widen as he hit the connect button. He could, _really_, say anything at all… and with Noin, that extended into other languages too.

"Hallo?" her voice was calm, smooth… like when she talked of security instead of the face she kept for the students, back in Sanc. Well, the heavy German accent added something else to it, but he didn't need to follow all the word play and intonations around him all the time, he had decided.

…Just mostly.

"Domo!" he returned extremely cheerfully, a laugh building in his chest just because he was doing it. If she was going to use an accent… _Why not?_ Glancing around at the crowd as he headed back towards the bus, he added, in the same level of pure…bounce… "Ano, you said I should call, when you gave me you number, and be subtle. Is two days subtle?"

He could hear her start to laugh on the other end of her line, and his smile broadened.

"Herr Heero!" she returned after a moment with the same overdone cheer, keeping her own accent thick. "I wondered if you would _ever_ call! You've not forgotten me after all?"

He bit back his lip to keep from chuckling. "_Fukanou desu_!" he protested. "How could I forget?" He licked his lips and carried on before his mind caught up and he managed to make himself stutter over a word; there was something bizarrely exhilarating about this. "I need to see you again! Let's meet someplace brighter, though! I'm in Russia now."

She made an amused sort of noise. "I'm in Russia too… but as the country is roughly seventeen million square kilometers, I doubt that's helpful."

"Aa," Odin admitted, eyes scanning quickly over the crowd, looking for anyone who might be paying too much attention to him. "Something more specific, then? I'm near a train station…"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Schwerin, Germany**

Relena smiled broadly at the plant; crouched down as she was, the earthy _green_ smell was even stronger… the smell of _hope_. "You said this one was how old?"

The agronomist seemed just as pleased as she was. "This section's one of the newer L4 strains; sprouted about three weeks ago, and we'll be switching to the summer cycle in another two. After that point, some days I'd swear you can literally sit and watch them grow… The average time from the start of summer cycle to harvest is about two weeks."

"That's amazing," Relena returned, genuinely awed, and all the more excited because of it. She had looked up the life cycle of the staple plants they were introducing when the complexes were still under construction, but she had quickly been side-tracked by other issues and hadn't ever made it back to highlighting the differences with the colony-developed strains; all she'd known was that they matured more quickly.

"This and one other strain are the only wheat we're working with," her guide went on to explain. "As you outlined before, the time and space is better put to the potatoes."

She nodded, still staring happily at the plant. She had gotten familiar enough with everything about potatoes in the past few months, but… she craned her neck to look up the long stalks. These were so _big_…

Movement out of the corner of her eye had her turning her smile on Jake instead as he walked back to them, jamming his cell phone back in his pocket. Smirking a little, he noted, "You look like a kid in a toy store."

Entirely undeterred, she stood and brushed off her hands. "These are _far_ cooler than toys," she informed him haughtily.

Her guide laughed a little. "Well, I'd have to agree with you, but I wasn't really expecting someone else to agree…"

"There's just so many," Relena returned. "I mean… I knew the numbers before I came here but… it just feels overwhelming." She frowned slightly, squinting at the 'field,' then standing up on tip-toe. "I can't even see over them…"

Jake chuckled. "Well, no one would ever doubt you were raised entirely in cities… Come on, stop embarrassing yourself before the paparazzi show up to record it for posterity…"

"I'm not listening to you," she announced cheerfully. "You're just trying to get me flustered."

"Well damn, you found me out," her bodyguard confessed in a monotone. "Bursting your bubble is right up there on my priorities with keeping you amused, or safe from assassination."

"I knew it," the princess returned breezily, the whole of her attention still focused on the rows of wheat. Though she could see that her guide looked like he was trying hard to keep from laughing, which made her feel good. He had been a bit distant at first, nervous even, before he realized she was visiting out of curiosity, not to find flaw in his systems.

"Well, my nefarious goals aside, we need to get out of here if you don't want to be late, so if you could stop leering at the poor plants, that would be helpful."

It wasn't until they were back in their car that Jake pointed out that they were just heading over to another complex anyway and that she could sate herself there that she actually smacked him in the arm, which set him laughing… and really he wouldn't have said _that_ if there weren't alone by then anyhow, so she wouldn't have had to smack him in public…

"You've been spending too much time with Dorothy," she decided as she settled in for the long drive ahead of them.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**April 13****th**** 198 – Friday – Subotiv, Ukraine – Night**

"I really appreciate this," Noin muttered as she leaned over and braced one foot against the bench to pull her boot laces tight. "It's a perfect opportunity right now, but not exactly vital, and I already have Hilde and Xutao off on something more critical. I'd resigned myself to leaving it alone until I had the manpower, even if it would be better defended at that point."

Odin nodded and shifted into a stretch, testing his leg again… he'd already stretched and warmed up, but while it had healed, it could still grow stiff in a short amount of time. "I wouldn't have gone to meet with Sally if I wasn't ready to act," he returned. "And my timeline isn't overly specific." _Though…_ Pursing his lips, he ventured, "It seems like a simple enough mission."

"Simple for you and me," she agreed. "Just in and out." Looking up from her boot, she smiled. "If Hilde wasn't afield and raiding at more or less the exact same time, I'd do it myself, but I can't have her showing up in two places at once." Focusing back on finishing her laces, she added, "That would just give the game away, so I either have to wait or I need a proxy… and I know you're good enough to do it on par or beyond what I could manage."

It took him a moment, but then he remembered the more recent 'in action' wanted photos of Hilde that showed on the news, and took in the length of Noin's hair, her body type… and he grinned. "How much of what Hilde has taken credit for was actually her?"

The ex-OZ instructor let out an amused snort. "Towards the beginning, most of it." She looked up to meet his eyes again and gave him a smug grin. "For the past two years, though, maybe a third."

He chuckled a little himself; it was clever. After a certain point everyone _expected_ Hilde, and the two women were, from what he could tell, physically similar enough that it must have been easy to slide it past with no one even suspecting Lucrezia Noin might have something to do with it. Considering the time gap Noin was admitting along with Hilde actually increasing greatly in skill, it had only looked as though Hilde's growth was exponential instead of impossible. It was… a flawless cover, with added bonuses aside, considering how many soldiers had come to outright fear Schbeiker.

_What was it Marlé says?_ "Nice."

She cast him an odd look for a moment, then let out an amused sigh. "I suppose it is."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**L2**

Marie sighed, pushing away from the laptop to look out the window. She'd woken up with her mother so they could have breakfast together before she went to work, and she'd mostly kept busy either studying German or meandering the net. The break was nice in some ways, but… it was _weird_ to not have Odin around. She had worried that they'd both start to go stir crazy while he'd been in the earlier stages of recovery from his surgeries and they'd mostly just stayed inside, but they'd spent it like they always had before… him teaching her, just less physical stuff. German was the second language she was trying to get at least the basics of down since Christmas, and they'd gone over more than she thought there was to even _know_ about computers, and a bunch of review over the guidelines for getting your GED that her mom had insisted on…

She got where her mom was coming from, but it wasn't like she could get her high school diploma and have it mean anything unless it was under her real name, and that wasn't going to happen for another few years at _least_. And if there was some reason she needed to have that on her record before then, it would be as Marlé Lowe, and Odin would just fake write it up and make it legit… or rather, he'd make her do it, which would be the proof that she could have it, in his estimation.

Her mom hadn't been very impressed with that logic… but she also hadn't protested when Marie had declared she was going to get her fake one as soon as she Odin thought she could pull it off flawlessly.

Her mom had also ordered the textbooks for the GED requirements, and made Odin include them as part of his 'running curriculum.'

It sounded so boring when she said it like that.

…She wanted to go outside.

Sighing, she grabbed her cell phone and tucked it into her pocket, then her wallet; she'd promised she wouldn't do anything that might be 'noticed' in terms of parkour while Odin was gone, so it wouldn't be as fun as she liked, but she was starting to catch up a little to Odin when it came to speed… And she didn't need a coat up here in the colonies; the warmth was nice, after over half a year on Earth.

Grabbing her keys, she went out the front door and locked it. Maybe she'd find _something_ interesting to do… or at least she supposed she could wander until lunchtime, and go meet up with her mom at the hospital…

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**April 14****th**** 198 – Saturday – Military Base Outside Smila, Ukraine – Early Morning Hours**

It felt good to… subvert, again. He had restricted his actions through computers for so long now that he had initially been worried about updates and shifts in coding, but he hadn't ceased learning how to dredge up whatever information or access he had wanted; he had simply ceased to act on it. His speed could use some improvement, of course, as knowing and doing were separate things, but he was still a decent enough percentage beyond the curve to suffice.

And he was stalking again, which he also hadn't done in some time… and not alone, for once. It was… euphorically invigorating. He had always trusted his own skills, but with the outside support, there was literally _nothing_ that could take him by surprise. He had done the legwork to make it possible in any case, but Noin was still sorting through and organizing what data fell into her hands with more ease than he thought he could have, before Zero.

He needed to finish teaching Marlé how to stalk; she still only knew his halfassed public version that he'd never been able to break from for a normal walk.

He heard a soft click next to him, then, "Door on your right; company coming up from the north."

Odin slid into the empty room without a moment's pause, bringing it back to a soft close just as he began to hear boots in the hall. Glancing around, he quickly registered that this was a small conference room, nearly bare enough to be sterile… nothing of use. "Clear," he muttered under his breath.

There was a long pause before Noin agreed in his ear. "Clear."

He stepped swiftly back into the hall, and heard the lock re-engage once he closed the door. "Fork ahead?" he asked under his breath.

"West."

He made it to the office she had pinpointed without any direct encounters, which was how they had planned, but still smoother than he had expected. All they were after was information, and that was more valuable when the enemy didn't realize it had been acquired, but he had never had such a complex, non-contact infiltration investigative mission line up so well. There were advantages to be had when your partner had spent years training men in the enemy camp; Noin knew all their protocols, all their shortcuts, and all their possible bad habits which were prevented by security, and any of the ways those rules were gotten around.

The breadth of her knowledge left him relieved that the majority of his instructors were confirmed as dead.

The whole contents of the computer copied onto a small drive he'd brought with him, he made his way back through the complex faster than he had come in, more confident now in the system they had rigged together. Noin had his laptop just within range with access to all the base's systems until someone noticed her, which gave her all the camera feeds and alarm and lock systems… though he still wondered that she was streamlining it so well on such a small screen. Her voice passed directions and warnings through his earpiece, and she had feedback through the mic clipped onto his collar, so he hadn't had to memorize the layout entirely. The prep for the job had been worked out almost entirely on the drive over… he would have needed far longer than that forty minutes to be able to do this alone, and probably with a bit more violence. She had described the security as being 'low,' but it was shortly after she had begun briefing him that he realized that it she was using _his_ definition of low.

He knew he'd liked Noin for a reason.

His partner let out a soft curse. "Stand." And he could hear why, someone was coming in the opposite direction down the hall, and there was no place to hide; at this hour there was no chance of them mistaking him for a newly transferred recruit, even with his stolen uniform. Almost immediately, however, he heard a computerized voice, further away. "Invalid entry. Please scan again."

He thought it was a moronic move to have the electronic locks – especially to high security areas – connected to the computer mainframe, but he could appreciate the openings it left him. With a lesser skilled infiltrator the connectivity was a useful, allowing a single guard to maintain a secure base, but if you _could_ get in, it gave you free reign over everything, including the alarms. No one would be able to tell he had even taken over the computers unless they regularly checked the logs on the office door Noin had unlocked for him.

"Double back and take your first right; stealth takes precedence, they're on alert now." Knowing she had an eye on it, he did as told, slipping around a corner as he heard Noin make a frustrated noise. "They're asking control what they have on the door scanner." Then, "They're heading back to the control room to check a few things through, the graveyard controller didn't catch anything that matched… their left is just before your hall. Stay where you are, they should pass without noticing you… they think the scanner's probably buggy, but they're being cautious."

He tapped his mic once to indicate he heard and understood, focusing on lengthening his breathing and keeping a firm, comfortable stance to avoid shifting and making noise unintentionally… he dimly missed his old mission uniform. No loose cloth to brush against itself and make noise, or to get caught on anything, no pockets that could hinder movement if filled with a tool, however useful… But it was far too cold for his old shorts now, and his skin could sear with unexpected pain if some of his worse scars were touched unexpectedly; he couldn't guarantee to not flinch if it flared intensely enough. The steady pressure of the leggings he wore under his pants were a must if there was a chance that he might need to be combat ready.

He was close enough to hear them breathe, now, though they didn't seem to be in any particular hurry. They were already convinced it was an error or a button the controller had accidentally hit, so he would have plenty of time to-

His calf vibrated.

_"Little less-" _

Even as the second millisecond of the song began, he was slingshoting around the corner into two very surprised soldiers, striking with a knife-hand at the first's throat as he dove into them.

_"-conversation-" _

"_Tell_ me that isn't your cell phone!"

He kicked the first further into the second even as the man fell, unconscious, and pushed off the wall with one hand to pivot hard in midair and slam his left heel into the second's face as the back of his head cracked against the floor.

_"-little more action."_

Regaining his footing, he started off at a run in the direction Noin had suggested before. "It wasn't my cell phone," he lied obediently.

"Then what the hell _was_ it?" she demanded.

"My cell phone."

"Damnit, soldier!"

"You said-"

"South at your next juncture!"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**L2**

Marie sighed as another five minutes passed with no answer, looking around the park with lazy eyes. It seemed so… manicured… compared to the ones she'd wandered through in Europe.

She wanted to see trees, real, _big_ trees again.

She glanced back at her phone; he wasn't going to answer, was he? He'd probably left it somewhere, or turned it on silent or something. He'd had _no_ interest in the thing whatsoever, she'd had to program it for him and everything…

Sighing again she pushed off the wall, checking her watch. Maybe she'd go buy some lunch, her mom was complaining about the cafeteria food before…

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**China**

Wufei glanced up as he heard the lift power back down before raising a brow at his newly arrived companion. "Does your father know where you are?" he asked curiously.

"Of course," the girl returned distractedly, focusing on undoing the clasps on her safety harness. "He told me to go do something useful where you could watch while he sought to guide the feeble-minded."

Wufei snorted, fully understanding Kailì's frustration with the new batch of technician hopefuls; the majority of them somehow lacked both any mechanical understanding _and_ common sense. Yu Zi, however – Kailì's oldest child – was an advertisement for a return to the idea of family practice in a field. Her learning curve was fast enough that it could probably be classified as intuitive.

Then again, if his own father had been a scholar instead of a human fighting machine, with Chang Xiung constantly speaking of chemistry and physics instead of stances and leverage, working through notes and happily explaining how something worked instead of driving his only child into exhaustion through training six hours every day, then perhaps he would have appeared to have innate skill in machines in place of his perfection of martial fluidity. He had had to work for every scrap of knowledge he gained twice over before he understood – his level of skill in that field had only come through sheer determination and refusal to back down… which he supposed his father had gifted him with through the brutal training he began as toddler.

Everything in life was a matter of trades and balances… Had his father not pushed him so strictly at a young age, he would not have ever gained such skill in fighting. He would not have then had the time after gaining that mastery to attend advanced schooling, or the discipline to take as much as he could from it. He would never have discovered the pure bliss of creating an idea he could fuse into reality and use to better the world around him…

…And he would never have been selected as a great enough warrior to be worthy of carrying on the Long Clan line through their lone heiress, Long Meilan. As much as his late wife had infuriated him, she had made him realize the things that were important about life, had made him regain faith in the idea of faith itself. She had pulled him out of the apathy he had been drowning in since the death of his father, given him hope for justice in a cruel world…

If not for Meilan, he would have become an entirely different man. If not for Meilan, he would never have fought with all his being for something he thought was right, despite the odds. He would never have realized that satisfaction could be gained even without 'winning' a fight… That a cause could be worth more than your pride, or your life; that living with shame at mistakes was far better than living as a coward who had never dared to even try.

"I haven't checked the calibration on those sections yet," he told Yu Zi, gesturing towards the panels on the opposite side of the receiving plane. "When you're finished with those, I'll show you the assembly on these." Currently, he was building up the structure of one of the energy conversion 'flowers'. "You'll need to know every piece perfectly to do repair without supervision, and these will give you less trouble than the older versions; a good place to start."

The girl nodded easily and picked her toolbox back up before padding over to the panels, and Wufei couldn't help but shake his head a little. Yu Zi gave him _so_ much less trouble now that she was apprenticing under her father, and virtually him too, considering how often the man pushed her off on him to deal with his less competent ducklings. And while it had annoyed him at first, he considered it a favor now; after all, if he had had to cope with an assistant from the rest of the batch, he would likely be facing murder charges by now. Yu Zi, with her calm efficiency, was a soothing shadow of noise nearby; he could trust her to not make mistakes. Under any other circumstances, allowing someone else to play with _his_ creations – at least, while he was still in the same room – would have been utterly nerve-wracking. It had been hard to even allow Howard's team of experts repair Nataku when he was aboard _Peacemillion_, even when he knew they could likely do a better job than he could himself.

With an easy breath, he focused back on what he was doing, relaxing more as Yu Zi settled into her usual rhythm. Somehow, inner peace was getting easier and easier to find these days.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Fifteen Minutes Outside Smila City Limits**

Looking back, it still went far better than he had expected. Apparently the controller had either fallen back asleep or assumed that the two soldiers had been distracted… or that they were only trying to get a rise out of him in the first place. It wasn't as clean of a job as they had been aiming for, but honestly, taking down a few enemy soldiers had been within their parameters for error; he had blundered, but he'd also taken care of the problem. Noin was annoyed at him, but… Well, he'd be pretty annoyed if she had made that kind of mistake. It was altogether embarrassing that he'd forgotten something so simple.

It wasn't until they pulled off on a side road and stepped out to switch the license plate and take the colored decal-wrap off the car, changing its color from black back to a metallic green, that he decided to apologize. When she just rolled her eyes, he admitted, "I've never had a phone before."

She gave him a look. "No? And how long have you had this one?"

"Less than a week."

She studied his face for a moment, looking skeptical, before sighing. "Only you, Heero…" Shaking her head, she moved to get back in the car. "You handled it, and you came out fine…" She laughed. "Shit, more than fine, you handled it _beautifully_, even, but…" Snorting slightly, she slid back into the driver's seat. "I'm checking your damn phone _for_ you before a mission from now on."

He grimaced a little at that as he got back in himself, but didn't protest; he'd only given her the right. "Not an entirely bad idea," he agreed. He was fairly sure he wouldn't forget again after _this_, but he had no habits for a phone, and therefore no guarantee.

They passed maybe ten minutes in silence before Noin asked, "How have you never had a phone?"

He shrugged. "My father always said they were a liability." He paused. "I think I agree with him."

She let out another of those soft chuckles. "You would… So who was it, anyway? I didn't see you silence it, so it was a little short for a ringtone. You got yourself a girlfriend texting you at all hours?"

He gave her a look for a moment, wondering if she was serious, which made her chuckle again… and shook his head in a negative before reaching down into the pocket on his calf to pull the little machine out. "No." He supposed he had Marlé to thank for whatever song that had been instead of a simple beep or chime. He frowned as he opened it up. "A text," he agreed with Noin, hitting the button to open the message… and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling just… very tired.

_'i'm bored' _

His companion raised one eyebrow, lips twitching. "No good?"

He reached up a hand to cover his face, even more embarrassed than before. "No good," he agreed.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**April 17****th**** 198 – Thursday – Lille, France**

"It's frustrating," Dorothy muttered as she added cream to her coffee, taking care to hold her free hand up in an elegant gesture – as she normally did – with convenient enough placement that it would largely block any view of her lips. "Either a significantly large proportion of the noble population have had personality transplants for unknown reasons, or I am missing something important."

Relena frowned. "What do you mean?"

The Romefeller heiress rolled her eyes and gestured an elaborate… annoyance. "Only a bare handful are following my projections." Catching Relena's skeptical look, she narrowed her eyes. "It is not simply _me_, Lena; I know these contacts, I know their entire extended families, their nervous habits and pleasures. Those facts are not wrong, and very few of them have even shifted slightly. It is their responses to my advances that do not match the situation."

The princess picked up her tea and sipped, considering the idea. Technically speaking, Dorothy hadn't worked for her or Milliardo since October, when she had formally come into her own as the new head of Romefeller – which was far older and technically had more power and sway than the Regime could ever hope to have, despite Milliardo's semi-successful attempts to castrate it. Truthfully, Dorothy hadn't worked for _Milliardo_ since the February before last, when she had sworn over her absolute allegiance to Relena and her ultimate goals. So while Dorothy had presumably begun to mend her network of contacts and assets last month, bringing Romefeller as a whole into power again, she had only begun to do so because her friend had asked her to profile the powerful as ally candidates. Dorothy could get very far, and dig deep into the layers of a shockingly wide array of individuals without anyone even blinking; she had been brought up to fill exactly the role she was playing now. She was inherently manipulative enough, an actress of great enough skill, that she could sound them out without them realizing what she was after.

The fact that the noblewoman was eccentric as a mad scientist – only reborn with only the interest of a ruthless socialite – also helped. It took a _lot_ before someone even vaguely familiar with her antics – and her priorities, good _lord_ – might suspect foul play.

Relena had to give the other woman credit where it was due, though; anyone who could exude such confidence, could perfectly intimidate, and masterfully control her opponents when she had neon green highlights through her platinum hair _must_ have innate talent. Somehow, with her ridiculous designer clothes and royal carriage, Dorothy made green hair look downright glamorous.

And however odd or pitiful sounding the excuse about how it was something about the subjects that was wrong instead of her predictions concerning the Romefeller contacts, the heiress _was_ a talented strategist. She had the emotional maturity of a middle-schooler and the patience of a five-year-old, but she was still a prodigy, a _genius_, in her own right; if she had considered it a strong enough possibility to bring it up like this, than there was little doubt that she was exactly right.

But what could the missing factors be? Again, Dorothy _was_ the tactician… if she hadn't found the clue to click the pieces together yet, than the only help Relena could hope to offer were observations that had a chance of sparking a flash of insight in the other woman's mind. Her own talents laid elsewhere.

She glanced to the side as she caught movement in her peripheral vision to find Jake walking back towards them… then stop as his phone rang and he offered her an annoyed look before answering it and walking back out onto the terrace again.

Relena shook her head as if to clear it, focusing back on the subject at hand. "Do you have any ideas what it might be, at least?"

Dorothy, however, was frowning after Jake. "What is he up to?"

"Trying to network a favor for me," Relena dismissed. "I'll let you know as soon as I do, I promise."

The heiress' eyes narrowed. "Is this the same favor as when he couldn't detach himself from his computer for just five minutes a week ago?"

"It's a big favor, with a great deal of moving parts," Relena returned dryly. "I'm letting him cook it up and flesh it out as much as he can before we go over the details." She tapped one finger on her napkin. "Right now I need _your_ details, Thea… Do you have any theories about why they are reacting differently than you expected?"

The other woman was clearly annoyed, but she let the subject drop. Wrinkling her nose briefly, she admitted, "My first thought is more related to allegiances… none of them are terribly impressed with Milliardo, after all, and by all appearances, I obeyed your brother's every command for two and a half years."

Relena smiled into her cup as she took another sip of her tea. "They must not have spies inside the Regime, then." Dorothy's ability to _not_ do her work and somehow manage to skate by and keep her position in any case was practically legendary by the time Relena had returned to Brussels, let alone the amount of pure bullshit she'd done in the last nine months before she quit.

Dorothy only giggled slightly at that before moving on. "In any case, I come across as a fence-sitter, which was true enough three years ago, and then I largely hid from my extended family and connections until now so as to avoid your brother believing I had the sway to actively use them." She met her eyes serenely as she lifted her coffee cup. "I'm an unknown quantity and will have to earn the trust of the majority through the good old-fashioned means of money and favors… but I believed I had already accounted for that." She focused back out the window as she finished with, "It has to do with trust, I believe, but I haven't yet had any luck unearthing what is tangling the entire network… And I'm afraid that it is likely far more than a single factor; the range of reactions I have received is too wide, the complications too severe."

_Wonderful._ More mystery was the last thing they needed at this point; the unknown was her worst enemy. "Alright… how about any progress on the other front?"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**L2**

Marie jumped as her phone went off and grinned, scrambled to figure out where it was underneath the papers she'd let pile on her desk. _Finally_, a text from Odin, probably saying when his flight was coming in. He hadn't ever answered her last week, which had made her seriously start to wonder if he'd dropped it at the bottom of his bag and forgotten about it…

_'I'm going to be another week or so.'_

She scowled, flipping open the keypad and typing furiously back, _'keep your stupid phone on!'_

A minute or so later, she got a reply. _'I did.'_

She rolled her eyes, but grinned. Odin was… well, Odin. _'did you like your ringtones?'_

_'I'm keeping it on vibrate from now on.'_

Marlé groaned. It figured, it really did, but seriously, what did a little variety hurt? _'you're boring. what's going to take you another /week/?'_

There was a longer break before her phone went off again. _'Checking on a few things I hadn't planned on… doing a few favors for old friends. I'll tell you about it when I get back.'_

She sighed. Of course he would… these were non-contract, disposable phones that couldn't really be tracked to them, but that still wasn't the kind of thing you talked about over open communications. It had been kinda silly to ask at all, really.

_'you /can/ call sometime,'_ she complained. _'i miss you'_

There was another long break before he answered. _'Spend time with your mother; you might not see her again for a while, traveling back and forth too many times will be a bad idea. I'll be back soon.'_

Typical Odin… She blinked when it went off again, then snickered.

_'Find something more interesting to do than texting me when you're bored. Be creative; surprise me.'_

Oh, she'd find something to mess with him with, just for that…

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**April 19****th**** 198 – Saturday – L4**

A woman with wild auburn curls with a blanket-wrapped infant tucked in her arms, standing next to a tall man with a thin but deeply muscular build and brown hair, both smiling, the man with his arms wrapped around a two-year-old girl he was holding up by her armpits.

A young toddler hugging a teddy bear and gnawing on one ear gazed directly out of the next picture, bright green eyes curious.

Adam frowned slightly, looking back to the first picture. The little girl was obviously Cathy, with her mother's bushy hair that had a bit more of her father's brown. The woman was wearing what looked like an acrobat's leotard under her jeans and unbuttoned jacket.

…Her eyes were almost exactly the same shade of green as he had. Focusing back on the baby, he considered it again. The toddler's were a brighter green, but he had always been told that children's eyes often changed colors as they aged.

_Not that practically anyone looks anything like their baby pictures anyway,_ he reminded himself, finding his eyes drawn back to the man in the first photo… because that was really what had caught his interest in the first place.

He looked… astonishingly like Adam himself did. Catherine had gotten her slate blue eyes from him, but the structure of his face, the way his shoulders set, his height and even the way his smile twisted… were eerily like what he saw when he looked in a mirror.

He had long told himself that Catherine was simply sentimental, that the idea that they might _actually_ be related was like something out of a girlish romance story, but… seeing his own facial structure under the toddler's baby fat had him deciding that as implausible of an idea as it was, it might hold some merit.

Standing up, he went back into the bathroom and rested his hands on the counter, leaning forward to examine the specific details of his face. He wasn't anything exceptional, he had the kind of face you could immediately lose in a crowd, but… he _looked_ like Cathy's father. And when he'd buzzed off all his hair before, it had grown back in with a reddish sort of tint that became less obvious the longer it got to be again. It was a darker shade overall too now, and again, he'd heard people say that children and teenagers often had their hair color change as they aged, usually to become darker as you entered your twenties… and even grown out again now, it had some auburn in it. Hell, it even had a few coppery glints here and there… He stared at himself another moment, then looked back down to the picture of the Bloom family that he'd brought in with him.

It was… plausible. He was about the right age, as far as he could tell. …If this was really him, then he was two and a half years younger than Cathy… eighteen at the end of June. He'd long assumed that he was a little older than that, but it wasn't as though he'd ever had anything to gauge it by… at least, not that he could remember. He remembered thinking that other kids were annoying, but he'd also grown up with _mercenaries_, in a setting that had _no_ other children, where he had been held responsible the same as the other adults, so he had never had any reason to think like someone his own age. He could remember a blonde girl with dark eyes when he tried to think of someone he had seen as an equal that wasn't over the age of twenty-eight, but it got fuzzy, beyond that… and he resented her, but he couldn't remember _why_.

Not that it really mattered… she seemed important somehow, but he was sure it was only so to the past, to something that had happened… and the past wasn't worth much thought.

This though… it was the past, but it still _applied_.

Shrugging after a long moment, he switched off the light and turned to put the pictures back where Cathy had had them. She was probably right, he was willing to that admit now…

…But he wasn't going to answer to Triton anymore than he did Nanashi.

It was Adam now… And now, now and what came after, was what mattered.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Amsterdam – Ritafore Hospital**

"Hey, you."

Doushovel van Rhinn's eyes lit up as he saw his old friend, and he grinned as he caught the bag of hard candy thrown at him. "Hey to you too, Gust!" He squinted at the thick and sloppy handwriting that labeled the plastic bag before exclaiming excitedly again and opening the thing. "Who made these?"

"Tiede and Laura," Gust explained, reaching into the bag to steal one himself before moving to sit down in the chair next to the hospital bed. "Marien had-"

"Oh no," Shov argued, pushing back his blanket and tentatively swinging his legs around. He tried not to do anything fast, because that made his head spin and he'd crumple, but he was _not_ stuck in a bed anymore. Besides, he had to get used to moving around on his own and be at least somewhat practiced before they'd let him go home.

But he _was_ going to go home.

"I've been in this bed so long my ass is permanently numb," he argued as he slipped his feet into the slipper things the hospital had given him and lurched the rest of the way to his feet. His left leg was still damn weak, but it didn't immediately buckle anymore…

Gust rolled his eyes but stood up straight, and was good enough to not be so insulting as to offer his arm before – _if_ – Shov asked for it. "Where are we walking, then?"

"Somewhere outside this room," the other man groused, testing his weight against his bad leg and deciding he was good. It was really his head that he needed to be ready to have work against him… but he was _finally_ getting there. "What were you saying about Marien?"

Gust hesitated slightly as though remembering something he should have considered first, then ploughed on anyway. "Since everything started looking up again and like we were okay for food even if prices skyrocket again, Marien insisted on using some of the old preserves to make pies for everyone for Karina's birthday, and then Tiede said we could make candy out of the syrup stuff the fruit was canned with… Someone else made some berry flavored stuff too, but the peach was what I found that was already packaged up."

"Makes sense." _So why the flinch?_ He thought about it for a moment as he popped a peach candy into his mouth… ooh these were _good_... What could he be skimming over that he didn't want to touch on? Obviously there was nothing bad about pie or candy or birthdays or…

He blinked. "Sin finally admitted when her birthday was?" For as long as they'd known her, she'd refused to let them know her age, her birthday, even her real name to the point that it had been something of a running joke between him and Luc – though at least she'd given in about the name thing when Luc asked her to marry him – and… _Oh God._

_Luc. _

He grabbed Gust's shoulder and hung on, leaning most of his weight as his head spun and everything swayed… Luc. Luc was dead… He'd died in December, but somehow, it just… how could Luc be _dead_?

How could the riot have been four months ago? How could he have… how could _anyone_ sleep so long and still survive?

Some weird twist of chance had gotten Relena to take a shine to Katrien, and the princess had been there to see Kat start to break down when she heard about Luc dead and him soon following, and Peacecraft – no, _Darlian_-Peacecraft, Katrien had corrected – apparently the princess had pulled out all the stops on getting him top quality care and making sure he made it through. He'd been comatose for something like three months, and then in and out after that, and rehab fucking _sucked_... But it had all been muscular rehab, not mental, at least… and he'd been so focused on it that all the changes outside the hospital care _Darlian_-Peacecraft was still covering for him just seemed… surreal.

Winter'd gone by a lot calmer than everyone had worried.

Kay and Melissa had gotten Father Espen to marry them in February.

Nolan and Amos had started high school.

Laura and Dev had gotten their diplomas, finally.

Jamus had talked everyone into letting his girlfriend – fiancée now – move into the Den.

Leah was dead.

Luc was dead.

…_Luc's dead._ He didn't want to start crying like a ninny in the damn hall, he really didn't…

Gust held onto him tightly and just weathered it through, which Shov appreciated more than he could say, he tried to grip his hand back to let him know… He, Gust, and Luc had been friends since, like… kindergarten. They'd stood together and held firm when everything went to shit, even when they all felt like utter failures for not being able to stop Melissa from doing what she did to keep Nolan safe and fed, when she'd always been a little sister to all of them, really… And she and Kay were so _good_ for each other, he was glad they'd sealed the deal, but…

But _Luc_…

After a while, Gust started talking again, trying to distract him… which was probably a good idea, so he tried to listen even if he doubted it would catch his interest. 'So yeah, Rina's birthday was the seventeenth." He jostled Shov's shoulder a little. "We finally have all her little secrets now, so do you remember what our bets were?"

Shov closed his eyes and laughed a little, though it was weak. "Not really. Luc made us call them all off when he got really serious about her, remember?"

"Ah, yeah, right. I was thinking it was weird I couldn't remember the exact numbers." He gestured to ask if he wanted to try walking again, and Shov regained his footing and nodded, though they kept their pace slow. "So we all knew she had to be younger than what she generally claimed, you know? And Luc eventually saying that she acted old enough and essentially _was_ old enough that he was done worrying about it?"

It was… easier to think of him like this, maybe, though he was starting to get wary of how long Gust was taking to get to the point. "Yeah?" He wasn't going to like this… "We were closer than we liked?"

Gust snorted and shook his head. "She turned _seventeen_ two days ago."

Oh. Oh _ow_. He squeezed his eyes shut again, fighting the urge to sway. _Turning seventeen __**now**__?_ That was a few dozen steps _beyond_ jailbait… "Seventeen? Gust, that means she was _fourteen_ when she and Luke started-"

"Yeah," his friend returned shortly, sounding incredibly resigned himself. "Yeah."

"…In his defense, none of us _ever_ guessed that low," Shov offered after a moment.

"She sure as hell didn't _look_ it," Gust agreed with a mumble. "But shit, I'm carding the next pretty girl I meet."

His laughter was a little more real this time. "Yeah… Yeah me too, I think…"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**April 20****th**** 198 – Sunday – Brussels – Afternoon**

"Jake?"

He twisted his head around without lifting it from his pillow. "Mm?"

Relena smiled a little. He was as adorable as a little kid with his blonde hair sticking in every direction… something she'd realized it did every time he laid down to sleep. She just hadn't really noticed for the first six months or more they'd been friends because he hadn't allowed her close enough to see him immediately after he'd woken, for the most part… He was so perfectly casual yet utterly closeted about his privacy.

And really, it was that open mask and carefully protected secrecy that defined Colonel Jake Miller.

"How do you have so much influence?" she asked carefully, if bluntly. She had put off asking in the hopes that he'd explain himself eventually or make it obvious to her, as he often did, but she had seen no sign of it thus far… And he had made it clear that she _could_ ask him about anything she cared to in the past few months. With how their relationship had changed, the worst he could say was that he preferred not to answer. She had asked a great many things, and he had yet to refuse… though she had also skimmed away from topics she knew he might find difficult, such as his childhood. She only took what he willingly brought up on his own about his family, or his time with OZ.

After the riot in December he'd begun to sometimes stare off into nothing with a sad and hopeful look… and it felt so intensely private each time that she hadn't wanted to ask.

"Mm…" Jake rolled over a bit more to look at her directly, then rolled a bit on the couch to lay on his stomach with his head propped on his hands, elbows on the pillow now. "Hard to say… and it's not exactly your kind of influence either, or I'd have had this done already."

He pursed his lips, thinking, and Relena resisted the urge to reach over and straighten his bird's nest of hair. They'd only had to shave a tiny area to relieve the hemorrhage from when the stage light had hit him in Amsterdam, and he'd managed his vanity mostly by letting the rest of it grow out more and had layers put in everywhere… and she personally thought the shaggier style suited him better. With the extra length, too, you should see how each strand was distinctly at least three or more shades of blonde or brown even when it was neatly combed… rather casually chameleon.

_Very_ Jake.

"Probably…" He considered for a moment before nodding. "This is the longest I've ever lived in one place in my life. My uncle was constantly moving and we never really put down roots in any kind of place, but… we made connections all the time." He looked thoughtful for another long moment. "That's actually one of the things I think drove Jack crazy about him, and then about me, because I was already set to be that way when Jack took me… No solid roots like most people think of, but either I already knew a few people everywhere I was bound to go, or I knew how to make the kinds of friends I needed to get what I wanted. It got to be… not even habit, it's just always what I've done, for as long as I can remember. I always keep in touch with everyone I know to some degree, so it's never completely out of the blue if I reach back to pull a string or two. And I have _enough_ friends that-"

"That none of them ever feels strained for it," Relena finished for him. That… made sense, especially considering the sheer _amount_ of correspondence he'd been keeping for the past two weeks, which was dire compared to a movie star's social life, let alone her friend's intensely private one. And the fact that he'd been putting himself through that kind of wringer for her made her want to glow.

He grinned. "Exactly." Sighing and rolling back onto his back, he added, "Though I'll be more than happy to go back to my normal routines again, trust me…"

She smiled. "Of course. How close are you to having it figured out, then?"

"Almost there," he admitted with a yawn, crossing one arm over his eyes. "I'm mostly sure on the best place for us to go, it's fitting and symbolic, even, but I want to make sure the last few things are ironed out first, if you'll humor me."

The princess shrugged, feeling a little excited just in anticipation; she had no doubt that her friend would deliver… and she knew exactly how good it could feel to hold out a perfectly finished product of something you'd worked hard on. She certainly wasn't going to begrudge him a little pride if he wanted to indulge. "I trust you," she answered simply, before grinning and tossing an eraser at his head, intentionally having it miss entirely but make him jump slightly and twist to give her one of his sleepy one-eyed glares. "I'll let you go back to your nap now," she promised with all the impish innocence she could muster. "I'm sated."

He snorted and rolled his eyes… and flopped back onto the couch in such a purposefully graceless motion that she couldn't help but giggle. _Some days… _

_ Well, no,_ she corrected herself, grinning wider and turning back to her computer. _**All**__ days, now…_

She had no idea how it was she'd gotten through the war and life before it without any true friends.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**April 22****nd**** 198 – Tuesday – Treize's hidden compound**

Treize Aaron Khushrenada, deceased General of the dissolved Order of the Zodiac of the disbanded Earth-Sphere Alliance, an heir of Romefeller, technically even ex-King of the World – an entity which had been far more literally broken up – as Relena had given him her position when she stepped down so they could both pursue Milliardo into space, finally gave in against all his upbringing and years of determination; he dropped his head onto his splayed hands and growled. It might have even qualified as a scream, had his timbre of voice been less of a deep tenor.

It didn't help as much as Váli had always insisted it would, but repeating himself did, somewhat.

Catalonia was attempting to revive the Romefeller network. _His_ network – or at least, the half of it he trusted enough to reveal the fact that he was still alive to, because he could still reliably manipulate or righteously demand their loyalty. Zechs had secured the basics of it in name and barebones theft when he created his Peacecraft Regime after the fall of _Libra_ on Christmas 195, but while he had known his control was minimal, it had been enough for him to accomplish what he found necessary. His ability to intimidate then had gained him the rest of the cooperation he wanted afterwards, or even some true allies as they saw the winds of change, though they would have done so with severe distaste… And a great deal of his success in doing so involved the Romefeller heiress that had, at the time, shadowed his every step.

During and immediately following the events at _Libra_, no one had been sure if it was she who pulled his strings, or if it were the other way around; if Duke Dermail's spoiled granddaughter was final proof of the past century's rumors of mental instability in her family, or if the Sanc prince was holding her hostage. If he _was_, whether it was as a more stereotyped hostage or just leverage and manipulation, making her believe she had no other way – Dorothy still _was_, in all too many ways, a child, and those in Romefeller knew it well, had been accommodating for it since she had reached puberty – which only made her footing more unsure. And so long as there was doubt concerning the exact situation and her allegiances – and they all knew how guilelessly Dorothy could lie and manipulate even at the age of _seven_, let alone seventeen – no action would be taken that could directly harm her. Then because of her skills as an actress alongside her peculiarities painted such an utterly unpredictable canvas, that the circle basically had kept her protected from all sides.

Treize was positive that Dorothy had purposefully made herself a hostage without letting Milliardo realize the implications, just to gain that protection to buy time in which she could decide what to do. The oddities were merely another sign of the genius he knew she possessed… and they only strengthened her cover and gave her more breathing space. She knew Romefeller would not dare lose her unless it was clear that they already had, so she had crafted her layers of camouflage from all directions, and as far as he understood, occupied her time largely by making a nuisance of herself – which was more or less what she had always done since her father's death, only Romefeller had fought to keep it under wraps for the sake of reputation, so it was more than fitting for Zechs to have had to deal with her. Surprisingly, he appeared to have handled it with more aplomb than Dermail had… which was a feat in and of itself, if Treize was honest. He had always found the girl's antics hilarious, and the fact that she always got away with it had made it even more amusing… but he had rarely been allowed into the deeper circles Dorothy was privy to once he came to lead OZ.

In any case, Dorothy Catalonia was a viable Romefeller heiress from one of the first families of Romefeller. If _she_ had been the one to drop _Libra_, she would have been put under house arrest and protected, as they had him after he obliterated the Alliance military. Everyone else with power in the Foundation would happily skin then burn Milliardo alive, despite his heritage as the son of Katrina Weridge. They had only been too happy to try to use a naïve Relena before, but that had only been considered as an option at all because the Weridges had allowed one of their daughters to marry into the Peacecraft line and gain a stronger foothold in Sanc. Had Sanc not become a nation of extremists and therefore been taken off the map in 182, the prince and princess would have been undoubtedly been brought into the fold. In actuality, Katrina Weridge-Peacecraft's death had been unfortunate collateral damage, and Romefeller had intended to take the children after killing the father so they could 'raise them properly' but by the time they realized that Katrina's children weren't tucked away in the panic room, the trails were both long cold on both of them. It had been seen as unfortunate, but while popular, the Weridges had never held great power within the Foundation either.

Romefeller was an organization of old nobility, and while Zachary Peacecraft _had_ been a king of a decently long line, Sanc had been both comparatively new and outside their network; it had been young enough that it was too small to be worth much thought when Romefeller was founded. The creation of the Foundation itself hid fairly well in the guise of a return to democracy, after the old falls of democracy in centuries past, long before the colonies were a true consideration… when the world systems outright _failed_ for reasons that were no longer clear and the worldwide population had regressed back into a mostly agrarian society.

That… attempted apocalypse of centuries past was a subject that had utterly fascinated him as a child, but even as an heir of Romefeller there was still little information to be had from before the six centuries preceding the start of colony construction. Humanity had been highly technologically advanced but not looking towards space, and then… the best educated guesses were that there was a series of coups and large-scale terrorist attacks with varying motives. For some reason, a common line between most of the aggressors had been that they intently focused destroyed books, databases, and high-end technology. A few generations after the ongoing catastrophes started, there were few people left with any knowledge of the technology surrounding them.

It was… terrifying, that that was honestly _all_ they knew about that massive shift in the world. With the loss of all the books, the records, of blueprints and schematics, the inability to use or repair leftover technology from before… The only way to avoid anarchy then was to return to more local, feudal style systems, pulling groups together to survive with a few people set aside in most subsystems to try to understand the old technology or develop something new or completely forgotten.

He was relatively sure from what they _could_ find that the old world would have found the idea of mobile suits utterly ridiculous… but from what archeologists had put together now, while a lot of their technology coincided, the old world would not have had an efficient way to power MS; that was an entirely new expertise, apparently. There was so much lost from that time… but then, over the years, so much more was also gained.

The feudal system city-states eventually developed into larger areas that could be qualified as kingdoms, with proper monarchies to manage what was best for their people… and for the future of their countries, how to preserve their legacies. Nearly every country had worked on its own new technology… And it had been a major grouping in China that built the first colonies both in a show of power, and to utterly exile their 'problem elements.'

He understood that Chang Wufei was descended from those exiles of the first viable colonies. It hadn't been the first attempted colony, by far… but it was the first with truly survivable failsafes built in, that had high enough quality engineering to be self-sustainable and safe for long-term human habitation. The original Winner colonies, which had been the next to go up, had had shielding problems for longterm health, and the inability of women from the Winner family to have successful pregnancies to this day was evidence of that; evidence of poor testing, as the problems had never become so severe elsewhere.

There were reasons you didn't try to rush the prototype and testing stages of anything. But then, that was the price of pioneering, generally; the Chinese hadn't cared if their exiled clans suffered, so long as they could claim it wasn't directly their fault… and it was up to debate if the first colonies had really been so well made that those problems had been extinguished, or if the exiles had simply realized and solved their problems on their own as time went on. Considering the things he had seen come out of those colonies – Shenlong and its pilot only one powerful result of many – he suspected it was the latter. And if that was the case, he understood why the remade empires of China had expelled them to what was then the farthest reaches of the universe rather than risk them leading a coup. It was one of _their_ colonies that they had merrily agreed to drop when the subject of the original Operation Meteor was broached. To be fair, the thing had probably been about to rip apart in vacuum at any time by then, and they had long been either viciously treated or neglected to the point of literally being forgotten… But Operation Meteor had more or less proved that there _had_ been a reason the Chinese had exiled those clans.

Sighing slightly, he leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling, considering how much sway Dorothy… how much sway _Relena_ could hold within Romefeller. Dorothy was an heiress, valuable and to be protected at minimum for the sake of sharing her great mind with future generations… after all, her father had been nearly as brilliant, though thankfully more sociable acceptable. It was down on the books somewhere that at this point, despite being in a more direct line of succession, Dorothy was not to be given control of the Foundation unless she matured drastically or there were simply no other options… which had had Romefeller silently gnashing their teeth because they _agreed_ that Dorothy would make a terrible leader, but Treize was the next runner-up with no other close competition, and they didn't trust him. However, the fact that he had sired a child with a Barton daughter had given him even better footing, as the Bartons were originally a Romefeller branch themselves that were cut off over time and distance. Bringing a seat of power back to Earth that still had such strong colonial influence could only lead to good things.

Therefore, once the news had come out about Mariemaia, he had suddenly found… far less resistance to the idea of his rising to power. Of course, Dorothy's continued fence-sitting behavior only reinforced the idea that he should lead next… and while he disliked using his lover and daughter for that without asking for their permission first, he wasn't going to turn down such a boon… and he couldn't let himself brood too long either. Whoever had Marie was keeping her healthy and safe, and that was enough to hold him, for now… And the infamy would help their lives too, after all.

Relena was a far more likely threat… and knowing Relena, if she did rise to power, she wouldn't be stupid enough to think she could run all aspects of a world and colony-wide government. The fighting that had led to the war fighting with the gundams had taken that lesson home. She would understand how permanently entrenched Romefeller was, and know that trying to rip it out by the roots was both senseless and impossible… Her short time as Queen of the World and everything more recently would have taught her to twist a few arms and use something like that to her own advantage instead of trying to foolishly eradicate it and start over.

Looking back to the report he had gotten from yet another contact's meeting with Catalonia, he let loose a more thoughtful mumble that his mother wouldn't have scolded him for. Somehow, in the end, everything in the modern world wove its way around and _through_ Romefeller… which made sense, considering its history, but that made working with the old fools no less difficult. Traditions of old, brought from different remade areas of the world, were melded into something that could at times be incomprehensible, and traditions became as good as law, and even more set in stone, stone only rivaled by an individual member's pure stubbornness to get his or her own way. It was at this point an _ancient_ ruling party… and one he had been trying to flout and bypass with minimal success since he first reached puberty.

The Romefeller Foundation had originally been an alliance between the larger, more powerful monarchies in an attempt to regain some sense of democracy… and as the first colonies were going up, to ensure that relations didn't explode out of their hands. The men of the time had been terrified of doing something that might allow a repeat of their technological apocalypse, and if you wanted to be egalitarian about it, it was composed only of nobles because they would have been the only ones who could have had any power of influence at all.

If you wanted to take a more cynical view, they had all been arrogant, proud bastards who had the idea that they could both take over and save the world to be renowned as heroes. Either way, they had accomplished exactly what they had wanted, and accepted a few more countries and their controlling powers over time, achieving greater power and influence, before sliding into the deep corruption the system had been terribly infected with by the time his grandfather was born. Power corrupted, naturally, and absolute corrupted absolutely… and that was one of the reasons why he really tried to focus on the simple pleasures in life more than the grand scheme politics. He had promised himself at a young age that he would never allow himself to fall into that tempting… degradation. Desire of power for goals was one thing, but desiring purely for the sake of power was a firm road to hell. Good intentions might get him there too, but at least it was a winding path, not a direct, neatly paved one.

He wished he could consult the old records for something useful, considering the current possible approaching doom, but their problems were nearly the opposite… and the feudal system was easily returned to, more responsibility returning to the monarchies if this all crashed around their heads. It was to their benefit to stay unified, if at all possible.

Romefeller had taken more of a back seat and begun to subtly pull strings instead of leading when the newer colonies went up and the Earth-Sphere United Alliance was born… and after that, it was as though people forgot how much power they still held, that they were the only ones who even _had_ the oldest records. All the other monarchies, including that of Sanc, were too young to have anything reliable, and even if any of the non-Romefeller countries had records, at some point they had all become very secretive with their irreplaceable knowledge… and then who was to say what had been lost even after the After Colony calendar was begun. There had been much fighting and destruction before and after Romefeller's creation on the planet, and it was only recently that they had had true problems controlling the colonies, isolated as they were… Endlessly irreplaceable knowledge had been lost, then the bare remnants lost after that.

None of those histories, as much as he might wish for it, could help him unravel the secrets of Dorothy Catalonia without placing himself and therefore all his men, everything they were working for, at great risk. Catalonia could certainly be a perfect ally, but he had learned firsthand that General Demitri Catalonia's little girl could make his reputation for viciousness pale, if it pleased her.

But she _had_ a goal in mind, something specific, and possibly massively complex, but also possibly simple… Dorothy's mind had forever been too much of a labyrinth to reliably predict. She had always been a complete wildcard. On the other hand, she had been pointedly doing nothing to go in any direction for the past three years… and suddenly now, she was not only moving, but with her old aggressiveness.

So if Dorothy had the ultimate set of poker masks, the next closest bet was through those she had come to rely on… and the only person that could be was Relena.

And Relena, for better or worse, had also acquired the ability to craft masks.

So the key to Dorothy was Relena, and the key to Relena was still up in the air, though at least she wasn't as volatile as Catalonia… but she could likely do even _more_ damage to him and his goals if she decided to not ally. He _needed_ to get enough information on her to know if tentatively approaching her was safe… and he had been trying to get that for over a year, with good implications, but nothing solid.

Relena likely had learned enough to suspect when she might have an adverse audience and was playing on the safe side, for once. He let out another tiny sigh. It _was_ a good thing she had learned to curb her more impulsive actions, at least on the political field, but it really wasn't helping him at the moment.

Picking up a fresh piece of paper, he made a note to put more pressure on finding Relena's opinions and allegiances when it came to her brother and what her plans for the future were, particularly in concern to Sally Po's rebels, as that subject _could_ be broached or hinted to, while as a dead man, bringing him up might just cause suspicion, especially if Dorothy was already suspicious and was reporting to Relena… They were beginning to lose time.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**April 25****th**** 198 – Friday – Brussels – Early morning hours**

Colonel David Mitchell sighed a little, rubbing at his eyes before focusing on the reports in front of him again. At some point they just started to blur together. He had never liked paperwork, had always preferred to be _doing_ something, and had been beyond ecstatic when he got the position leading the strike force. He had enjoyed training his men up to a high standard, and the first few targets were both obvious and imperative. They had gotten so caught up in those that some part of him had managed to forget that full research and planning would be required once those were out of the way… and then he had forgotten how long it could take to properly research something on his own. He was too used to getting Jake to either do or at least help with those steps.

Miller would just cackle if he heard that thought, though, and while David agreed that it _was_ a little funny, it was still altogether sad.

So… practice, he supposed.

He really wanted to move on the Cambyses, spread across most of northern Africa, but he didn't have all the recon he wanted yet, and he was going to need a _lot_ more manpower than was just in his squad for that, so once he _did_ get the information he wanted, there would be the time taken to negotiate more troops, then the fighting itself was going to be… messy at best. He wanted his men to be damn prepared, seasoned and experienced, before he took them into an utter shit storm like that was bound to be. The founders of the… cult?… had apparently gone on about how only the strong deserved to survive in the new world. Their growth method of kidnapping young men and brainwashing and forcing them to fight gave them the beginning edge… and they had used that to proceed to pillage and decimate everything they came across, with a great deal of senseless slaughter. There was a decent chance of turncoats helping them when they got in close to actually fight, considering how vicious the initiation process was, and how miserable of lives the majority of the recruits were forced into living, and that was _something_, but not something he could count on for planing purposes.

Dealing with Cambyses was just going to be a bloodbath, no matter what way it was gone about. They had ruled out bombing due to the hidden nature of many of their compounds mixed with the fucking _cages_ they kept their most recent recruit victims in, and the apparently common practice of bringing back innocents to… do with what they would…

…He wanted more than anything to take them off the map tomorrow, they twisted his stomach around so bad, but he knew better than to go unprepared. _Especially_ because they'd basically become a semi-nation of Vikings. It apparently hadn't been quite as parasitic of a group to start with, but it hadn't been too long before the later idealists of the system decided that if they could kill off their vaguely intelligent superiors, that meant they were both stronger and destined for power and greatness… and they had no real idea of how to manage a group of people.

Thank God though, really… If they were truly well organized, well-disciplined, they wouldn't have any choice _but_ to bomb the entire area repeatedly.

Beyond them, though, there were a slew of lower priority cases that also required more research that may or may not be easy to conduct… and he considered the said stack in that priority listing on his desk with a jaundiced eye. He couldn't seem to make up his mind if any of them needed any particular sort of priority over the others, but at the same time was convinced that there _was_ something more important than the rest in the stack in there, and he really needed to make sure not to miss it… But then that could just be old paranoia creeping up…

Still.

It was something of a relief when his cell phone rang, though he frowned when he looked back at the time. It was awfully late for anyone to be making a social call, and he wasn't expecting anything from his men tonight, they were on a much needed break between jobs… well, they were on break while he figured out what the hell they were doing next…

_Aa._ The caller ID read 'Jake.' That made sense. Hitting the connect, he noted, "My job is being annoying."

His friend let out an amused snort. "My job is sleeping, currently… but she's generally not annoying in any case. Really, I should crash too, but… I need to ask a favor."

David shook his head a little; there were definitely far worse people to work with than Relena Darlian-Peacecraft, to be sure. "What kind of favor?" He'd just agreed without asking in the past, and while that was fine when his friend was serious, it had landed him in some uncomfortable bullshit when he was in a more whimsical mood. Calling at three in the morning, however, when he knew the man absolutely loathed being sleep-deprived, probably meant he wasn't just fucking with him.

The other Colonel made an amused noise, probably having followed more or less the same thought process. "Don't worry, it's nothing squirrely."

David sat back, rubbing his eyes. "Alright, let's hear it."

"Can you knock all trouble in Munich to the top of your priority list?"

He blinked, ran the last few lines of conversation back through his head a few times to be sure, and grinned. And wasn't he thinking something about how Jake ought to come along and do this part of his job for him? _Problem solved._ "Dude… you've just made my day."

"This past day, or today…er, tomorrow?"

He laughed, shuffling through the stack of papers for the ones he'd clipped together for areas in Germany. "Shit, let's just go with both."

Jake snorted again at that. "You miss me making you work your ass off. I knew it."

"Things get overly complicated when you're the only one giving much in the way of orders," Mitchell protested. "I want to have a life too, but it's just not meant to be, apparently. Instead I have to lose sleep over stupid decisions you'd make with a moment's thought. I can't decide which part is more important to do first anymore, I swear to God, and it's probably the sleep deprivation doing it…"

His friend made an annoyed sort of noise at that. "Honestly, Dave, sometimes, just flip a damn coin."

"Flip a coin?"

"Yeah, just don't let you men see you do it, it's bad for morale."

He grinned a little at that, then turned tiredly back to the stack of papers, now that he had the Germany sheaf out in his hand. "I'll need a fifty-sided coin," he announced. "Can you get me one of those?"

Jake started laughing in earnest… and it really _was_ just suddenly a better day… a better week, even.

**_oOo_**

* * *

**_oOo_**

**_End Scavenger Hunt_**

**_oOo_**

* * *

** Well, that only took a bloody year and a day… or, you know, four months… I'm seriously sorry people, but at least it's finally here? Trying to set up the timeline for everything to fall in place has been a bloody nightmare… **

** Thoughts? Any favorite interactions, or anything you didn't like? Not that I'll change it, mind, but that **_**is**_** how one grows as an author… and if it's something I honestly overlooked instead of a conscious decision, I **_**might**_** go back and mend it, and account for something better… Keep in mind that some characters, such as Noin (or others as they crop back up), are being written after a massive time skip where they have gone through a lot of emotional turmoil as a bare minimum… and that, more than anything, can be a scope for reshaping a person… Which was kinda the whole point and theme for every single character in Survival, so yeah. That theme is still recurring here… just that there's more of a real plot and goal in mind here, they're not just developing, unlike in Survival. **

** Hence the Series name being ****Recast Steel****.**

** Hope you all enjoyed it, despite the despicable timetable. Hopefully you're not as insanely busy as me… or if you are, I hope this made a nice reprieve. **


	3. Progression

_**Progression**_

_Because no matter what people say, at the end of the day life is a magnitude, not a vector._

**oOo**

* * *

**Do I get points for the geekiest saying thing I've ever even thought? God help me… **

** Edit: There were some problems with my original geography of the events taking place in the Sahara Desert. If you see this note and have not yet read this chapter, don't worry; the first edit is in this chapter, and therefore the entire change is irrelevant to you. If you **_**have**_** read and want a sort of summary of the changes instead of hunting for the fine details, look to the beginning of chapter 5 **_**Breaking the Rules**_**, as there is a conclusive note there. If you're just following the storyline without a ton of concern over the fine details, don't worry about it; the only problem was honestly just a really poor geography mistake, and nothing has changed in terms of actual events.**

* * *

**April 26****th**** 198 – Saturday – L2**

Odin couldn't help but feel content as he slid the key into the lock and felt the pins smoothly slide into place and allow the cylinder to turn… He'd never had keys to anything before Leia had given him one for her condo, told him that it was his home as long as he wanted to stay… and that as long as it was his home, it was his key.

It wasn't as though the Sronas hadn't considered him welcome in the same way; he had simply always been with one of them, literally something of an invalid so it would have been a useless measure. But Leia had pointedly pressed keys into both his and Marlé's hands at the same time shortly after they had arrived back in L2, her expression serious… and it had meant something more than Samuel and Moira Srona's open-armed welcome. Moira tried to… for lack of a better word, 'mother' them, while Leia had looked at them more closely and nodded and taken a step back to allow them to define the boundaries even as she stretched her own wide open.

Leia Barton confused him maybe forty percent of the time, but he genuinely liked her. She was frank and genuine, but despite that she didn't have his rough edges. She was swift and sure of herself, yet calm and quiet, perceptive, content to wait in the shadows until those around her realized they had gotten lost in themselves and felt embarrassed from her arch look. He was positive she did that last on purpose, but despite being ready for it, still could not decipher how she made herself slip from his attention in the first place, considering how firm of a presence she held. Or if not the slipping away – he could do that and had been told he had a rather unique presence – he wanted the secret to how she made it seem as though she had done absolutely nothing to give the impression. People jumped or scowled when it was him… they felt foolish or guilty from her.

He wasn't going to ask Marlé's opinion until he had it mostly worked out. He had the impression she might laugh, even if she would agree in a heartbeat.

The deadbolt slid back and he quietly opened the door, stepping inside and shutting it behind him, glancing around to see if they had heard him yet… only to blink as a cream and white ball of fur launched itself onto his foot.

He stared blankly at the kitten for a moment, seriously contemplating if it was possible that the neighbor had changed their locks and by miraculous coincidence matched Leia's, and he had in fact walked into the wrong house. The creature turned huge blue eyes up at him and started to rumble like a motor as it clawed contentedly at his shoelaces.

_No, the furniture is right. _

"You can't claim creativity when you've been talking about kittens for over six months," he announced after a moment, sighing as he set down his duffel and knelt to consider the animal. It mewed happily at him as it continued to file its claws on his shoelaces, then again in pleasure when he reached out to scratch it behind the ears, anchoring its claws in his shoe and leaning into his hand as far as was physically possible, purring even louder somehow.

He smiled, rubbing at its head a bit more vigorously. _Alright._ He _could_ see the appeal, but still.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Leia cooed as she came into the living room, smiling brightly and coming to crouch next to him and scratch the cat on the other side of his neck. "Marie saw him, and then I thought that, well, maybe I could use a little company while you two are off gallivanting about. He was the most affectionate out of the bunch, as well as the prettiest." Her smile widened as she reached out and spread the little cat's toes to make him retract his claws enough for her to pick him up, and she tossed Odin a mischievous look. "I'll have you know that _I_ always wanted a cat too."

Marie snickered from where she was standing over by the entry to the kitchen, and Odin gave her an amused look; maybe her original claim last September had some validity, and all girls _did_ love cats.

"We were just about to make dinner," Leia added as she snuggled her pet against her neck, rubbing at him with the line of her jaw so that he rubbed her back as hard as he could with the crown of his head. "There's enough for all three of us, I'll just have to get a few more things out." Again, her eyes lit up in an amused way as she turned and handed him the kitten back, moving his hands so that he was holding him the same way, that purr vibrating steadily against his jugular. "I'll cook… you take Heero."

He blinked, that not making any sense at all, until Marie giggled again and noted, "It only has _one_ e in it… but we named him Hero."

Odin closed his eyes and fought the urge to sigh, focusing on the warmth on his neck as Hero purred more and rubbed his head along his jaw line. Of _course_ they had named it something like that.

Leia laughed delightedly as she moved away. "Well, if any of your old friends ends up around here and slips up on the name, it makes a good cover, doesn't it?"

He did sigh as the little creature started to nuzzle more at his jugular instead, running the sides of his mouth over Odin's neck and leaving faint traceries of wet that dried almost as soon as they went down… and cried again. Well, no, not exactly a cry, and he kept doing it… it was as if he was trying to just idly chatter, making noise for the pleasure of it. After a moment he pulled his cupped hands away to hold him up at eye level and really consider him.

He was mostly a cream sort of white, with the tips of his ears and tail and his paws faded into a pale sort of tan gold… and he still rumbled like a badly muffled engine. After a moment he mewled again in a satisfied way and reached out a paw to try and touch his face, and Odin let him, wondering slightly at the feel of the soft pads of the tiny paw on his nose, then the other paw on his forehead… before, stretched out as far as he could go to accomplish it, Hero ducked his head down between his forepaws so his head was maybe an inch from Odin's eye and let out another happy sort of meow. His eyes were not just content, but showed that the cat was incredibly pleased with himself.

He laughed at that and gathered the little thing back into his hands before tucking him up against his shoulder… and smirked when Hero simply clambered the rest of the way on and anchored himself with his claws before crowing out another meow at his achievement. _You'll fit right in here,_ he decided as he went to pick up his bag.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**April 27****th**** 198 – Sunday – Munich**

"Just a sec," Nan called as he shut a few windows – more out of habit than anything, he wasn't actually into anything at the moment – and patted his pockets; mostly to be sure they were there. He'd had the most embarrassing time once when he hadn't thought to _check_ before answering the door, and it had been his landlady and he'd been wearing his shirt and boxers… The damn woman had been convinced he'd done it on purpose too, as if he _needed_ her to make his life harder.

He went over everything from the past week in his head, just making sure… yeah, he was good for all his deadlines, both legitimate and not, and B.J. would have called or messaged him, not come knocking… Well, unless he was bringing beer and pizza… which was _always_ appreciated…

_I need to sleep… and shower…_ Food wasn't an entirely bad idea either, but on Sundays he usually went over to Lindsay's and they did the big group thing. And Lindsay could _cook_ even better than he could con anyone, and really, Lindsay had been born to be a con artist more than a rebel. _Thank God for small mercies._ He liked having the guy on his side of this fight… and this side of his wallet too.

_I'm not late on rent or anything, am I?_ He couldn't think of anyone who'd actually be at his door this time on a Sunday… God it was probably his landlady. Seeing as yes, he _was_ dressed, he ran a hand through his hair – not that it would matter to his damn landlady – and undid the lock… and blanched at the man in military black leaning against the frame.

"Nan Hoffman?" he drawled, dark eyes glinting with the kind of lazy indulgence a cat might offer a cornered mouse.

_Oh God._ There was someone else down the walk too. _Oh God, I'm __**fucked**__._ "Yes." The word came out as a bit more of a whimper than he'd like to admit to.

"May I come in?" Not waiting for a response, he strolled in and shut the door behind himself and again leaning against it. In a slightly more serious tone, he noted, "We need to talk."

Nan desperately wished he'd actually listened when B.J. had explained how to identify rank from the uniform. "What about?" he tried, utterly failing to be nonchalant.

"Mm. I understand you and your friends-" _Oh shit._ "-don't have much love for the genocidal leader I play fetch for." His eyes were suddenly just honest. "Don't try to deny anything, just listen. You have a good little discreet operation here; I wouldn't have had anything to work off of to realize there was even a chance of a rebel cell here if I hadn't been caught in a jammer net of yours last summer." He rolled his eyes. "And even knowing you were up to something then, even which _hours_, I can't get any idea of _what_ you did. And I can appreciate how much work and coordination that takes."

He shook his head a little, tossing a few black curls of hair out of his face. "I've had my reasons for playing along with Marquise and staying in his good graces, but it's always been with the thought that it was only until someone better, someone _suitable_ came along. So when Miss Darlian-Peacecraft tells her bodyguard, my best friend, that she's sick of dealing with her brother and she wants to move to Munich…" He gave Nan a long, considering look. "I'm a fan of consolidating available resources instead of squandering them."

That… Nan felt his knees start to buckle, and managed to sit on the floor before he fell. His mind was whirling a mile a minute. He'd thought this was a bust, but then… well, who _would_ want to work for Marquise? But _Relena_ Peacecraft was another story entirely… brother and sister were frickin' black and white.

A bubble seemed to pop in his throat, and he fought off a gasp. The princess wanted to move _here_? And they could maybe _help_? Holy _shit_, he wouldn't've ever _dreamed_… They were just trying to make a difference where they could, but _Relena Peacecraft_-

"I see you'll need some time to process it," the soldier noted dryly, his smirk back in place. "In the meantime, I'll be visiting your friends… And as this is an equal opportunity between you all, I'll be having Sergeant Thorly visit with you a while to keep you from letting the cat out of the bag before I'm finished." Waving slightly, he stepped back out his door as smoothly as he'd entered… and the man that had been down the walk came in a moment later with a curious look.

Nan offered him a weak smile. _Holy __**shit**__…_

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Salzburg, Austria**

"Well then," Noin muttered dryly. "You're both all in one piece; that's a plus."

Hilde grimaced at that, and could see Xu doing the same in her peripheral vision. It had taken a _lot_ more prep than they'd anticipated to get through the security, and then they'd more or less botched it – she still thought it was Xu's fault, but respected the fact that that was probably wildly inaccurate and unfair of her – before having to spend a _week_ on the run before heading back to a base of operations, because there had to be _no_ chance whatsoever of a base being discovered…

And then the General was calmly waiting for them when they _did_ report in. She'd told them to be fast too, she'd something else she needed done, something about an information raid… the kind that they'd actually just blown to all hell, actually…

Inwardly, Hilde groaned again. _She's __**never**__ going to trust us again._ And while she realized that that, too, was an exaggeration, Noin would certainly make sure it _felt_ like an eternity.

_All the same though…_ "Is there any chance we aren't too late to do that other job you mentioned?" Xu was giving her one of his disbelieving _looks_ now, and she rolled her eyes slightly at him. Seriously, if you never went out on a limb, you lost a lot of opportunity.

Noin let out an amused little noise. "I never intended to send you in on that, I just couldn't appear somewhere at the same time as you," the woman noted. "And yes, you're far too late… but I caught up with an old friend and he helped me take care of it."

"Old friend?" Xutao tried to discreetly elbow her, and she openly stomped on his foot in return; he bit back a squawk. If _he_ wanted to keep all his propriety, that was his business; _she_ had no intention of falling victim to that bullshit.

Besides, the General was obviously amused by the byplay, her eyes shining. "Yes… he was a bit of a surprise; I hadn't seen him in over three years." She shifted her focus to Xu. "Although, Chang here had a chat with him, last July."

Xu froze, and Hilde was at a loss for a moment, trying to remember what was happening almost a year ago with her partner… he'd been mostly AWOL, and then- She gasped. "_Heero_?"

Noin looked even more amused. "You should've seen everyone else's reactions to him; I think the Commander was constantly caught between keeping herself from gushing or pulling him into a hug every time he smiled. I caught a few of our boys trying to hide from him, too."

"He _smiled_?" Hilde demanded, her mind spinning. _Heero…_ "He's really okay?" _I need to tell Duo._ But there was no chance of her discreetly getting out to visit Duo for _months_, and that wasn't the sort of thing she could send a message about even if she _could_ send a message to Duo, seeing as she couldn't let anyone know where he was… Anyone but one of the other pilots, he'd said…

Except that Noin's tense implied that he'd _been_ there, not that he currently _was_.

And Noin was watching her and she knew it… and Lucrezia probably _knew_ that she knew, but she'd respected the charade enough to not look into it so far…

And she wanted to know if there was any news about Quatre or Trowa too.

"Has he heard from any of the others?" she asked hopefully. "From Duo?"

There was something implied in the other woman's smile, or in the shaded parts of her eyes, that said she _knew_ that Hilde knew where Duo was but was humoring her, as she shook her head. "He was hoping we would know more," she explained. "The last time he saw Quatre was almost fifteen months ago, and the closest he came to finding any of the others was when he thought he was chasing down Wufei instead of _our_ Chang here." She said it with a bright smile to the man. "And don't think that I don't see that as a blessing, Xu; I respect that the two of you were friends at some point, but Wufei's an ass that I don't look forward to working with again, and I think I'm fully correct when I say that it was you who kept this last run salvageable, instead of ending with casualties."

She reached over and grasped his hand firmly in hers and made sure he met her eyes and she gave him one of her true, bright smiles. "From what intel we did get about what happened and after, you were damned _brilliant_." Tapping Hilde on the head with her other hand like she might an annoying puppy for emphasis, she added, "You're the one who got you both out and safely home free. The two of you are worth more than any intel I could ever send you on, you know what. So _thank-you_, Chang Xutao."

Hilde blinked and tried to make herself smaller as Xu seemed taken aback by the praise. "I… I was just…" He shook his head. "I did what I could with what I had at the time."

"And it was exactly the right course," Noin praised again. ""Though from what I understand, what you did you learned from your 'Adam' friend, who also has your information as a way to contact us… and it would be nice to meet him too, sometime."

The Chinese youth shifted a little uncomfortably. "I have no idea if he will, Ma'am. He's... eccentric and used to working by himself, I think. I got the impression that even working with just me was a novelty."

The General's smile was genuine. "Well let's hope he decides it was _good_ novelty. After all, Yuy didn't contact us for a solid ten months after you ran into him. We're finally culminating into something bigger…" She winked at them, looking a bit more predatory. "We've been a bit more showy lately… And I think we'll be kicking it up another notch soon."

The backhand seemed to come out of nowhere, but Hilde knew enough to move with it as much as she could without falling over. "Get some sugar in your system and meet me down in the gym, we've got work to do," Noin ordered, her tone dripping with some annoyance. "I actually got to _see_ the tape where you fucked up, so we're going to make sure you never do it again." Smiling softly at Xu, she added, "You're free for the rest of the day."

Hilde ducked around the other woman and down the hall before Noin could ask her why she wasn't moving yet, wanting to grumble but knowing better. If the General caught her bitching she'd be working herself into collapsing asleep on the gym floor kind of exhaustion for the next _three_ weeks instead of one… and, well, she was right. She _had_ fucked up… and really did deserve it. It just sucked that it had been her instead of Xu this time.

And… well, if it had been her and not Xu, then she probably ought to be working her ass off to make sure it _was_ him next time.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 1****st**** 198 – Thursday – Brussels**

_It would be all too easy to grow to hate Mary Jean Sabetta,_ she reminded herself. _You're above that._

Relena forced her fingers to loosen before she could bend the folder she held – thankfully it was thick enough to have not done so already. "I see," she returned calmly, letting some small amount of irritation show, but not the heavy weight in her chest. "Did he say when he might be available again?"

_Sabetta is merely his favorite proxy… Hating her is just a hopeless attempt at hiding my resentment with Milliardo._ She didn't want to think about how long it would be before that resentment could build finish building into a true loathing for her brother… Incidents like this made it worse, where he wouldn't even allow her close enough to personally shunt her away and instead assigned it to one of his aides, but…

She couldn't simply _give up_ any more than she could let herself hate Sabetta. She owed it to him… no, she didn't owe her brother _anything_ anymore, but she owed it to _herself_ to not fall into his same hypocrisy.

"No, Ma'am, I'm afraid he didn't." She eyed the folder the princess was holding. "Would you like me to take that for him?"

"No, thank-you." _He can see it when he cares enough to look. I hide __**nothing**__, but that doesn't mean he'll see anything either._ She turned to walk away. "Please tell him I came by." If he remembered to care, _he_ could come ask _her_ about the preparations for the Chinese teams arriving in five weeks. It was the only one of her projects that she was obligated to keep him posted on, as the agreement to trade with the Chinese for the heat amplifiers had been made with the Regime, before she became a candidate for the Rhea Lowe Tomorrow Today Fund.

She didn't protest as Jake came up like a shadow and pulled the folder from her again tightening fingers; she'd asked him to wait just out of sight. "Ass," he mumbled just loud enough to hear.

"Don't say that where you might be heard and understood," she sighed out. Not that being face to face with her brother would have ever stopped her bodyguard from calling him the same, but… _But what?_ Her hands started to fist and again she forced them back open before most people might notice the gesture. _I feel like a damned moody teenager over this… furious at him one moment, defending him the next…_ She understood, for the most part, why she was having this war within herself, but she was ready to finish it already and be done with the pure emotional upheaval.

It was exhausting, never mind the pure confusion and stupidity of it all.

Jake snorted, and instead said another phrase in what she was fairly sure was in Chinese… And if it wasn't Chinese for 'ass' then she had no doubt that it was far more offensive.

"Do I agree with that?" she asked tiredly.

"Yes."

She smiled as she looked over at him before shaking her head. Some days, Jake was the only thing that kept her from sinking back into the flailing depression she'd dug out for herself before returning to Brussels. "He has a talent for making me feel as small and insignificant as a seven-year-old," she murmured without moving her lips. "Even without being there to do it himself."

Her friend nodded in agreement… as he said something else in Chinese. A true grin made its way across her face. "You know you could be saying _anything_, as far as I know."

He widened his eyes in a mock attempt at innocence. "But you agree with me," he protested, bumping her shoulder lightly with his as they continued to walk. "Though," he admitted a moment later, "I'm actually far from fluent in Mandarin."

"That's news," she returned, surprised… and then amused that she was actually surprised that he didn't speak every common language. _Wow, Lena,_ she chided herself. "How much _do_ you know?" She fought back a smile.

"Enough for basic business transactions and at least twenty creative ways to cuss someone out," he returned cheerfully.

She chuckled a little at that. "You _would_."

"I learned most of it from a cadet that thought I was a…" He trailed off, trying to remember. "bastard of a goat freak of nature." He frowned. "There was something else in there, but I really don't remember… I was, like… eleven and making him work his ass off." He started to snicker. "I eventually looked into it just because Dave would start _giggling_ every time the guy addressed me as something like 'goat-fucker'."

She fought down a giggle of her own, just _seeing_ it… And a faintly amused eleven-year-old Jake cheerfully returning something of his own in Chinese at some point… _Oh God._ She was going to have to ask Mitchell about that one the next time they saw him. "What did you do?"

"I asked him what he had against goats."

She outright guffawed at that… then did a slightly better job of containing herself as he gave more details while they made their way up through the compound and back to her suite of rooms.

Her brother might be an ass, but at least she had good friends.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Sahara Desert**

Razo met Robby's eyes briefly when the man turned to him and he saw the flash of genuine concern before the man focused on Cory as Razo let go of the kid's shoulder and watched the boy just launch himself at their leader. Robby's glimmer of surprise lasted only a moment before his mouth settled into a grim line and he caught Cory against his chest, closing his eyes as the youth started to shake. Razo could feel himself starting to tremble too, now that he was relaxing enough for it to show, back on safe territory…

It had been one _fucked up_ day.

He'd never seen Cory cry, but he was fighting off sobs now as Robby just held him.

The woman's eyes flashed through his mind again before he pushed it back, trying to not hear the shrieking, but that was harder to get rid of…

…and it was time to throw up.

He didn't bother with discretion, just knelt and braced his arms and lost his stomach. It wasn't like it would be hard to shovel it up and throw in the latrine later… sand was sand was _fucking_ sand, after all.

Cory was losing it… Cory was probably the most stoic of any of them, but the kid was breaking down… Razo's stomach wrenched again. _God, not that I blame him…_ But seeing Cory lose his ability to dissociate from it all… well, he hadn't been able to help but lose his cool too.

When he decided he could look up again, he could see that Robby'd sat down and pulled Cory down into his lap, pressing his favorite's face against his shoulder. Their leader was watching him, though… and something about that sad but calm, cool gaze helped his stomach calm down, made him just tired instead of wanting to scream and sob. He could start to think rationally again… at least, rationally enough to know he wanted to get up and sit by his friend and hide his face in his knees. He wasn't sure how long they sat like that on Robby's little keep away corner of camp, except that it was starting to get dark, and Cory was calmer but still clinging to Robby like a lifeline…

Hell, no 'like' to it; he _was_ their lifeline in all too many ways… Though more for Cory than the rest of them, he guessed, because Cory was what kept Robby grounded most days.

He was finally starting to feel better when the boy whispered, _"Sembrava mamma…"_

"Shh," the blonde man murmured, running a hand gently though his hair. _"Lei non è qui. Dimenticare."_

_"Dimenticare,"_ Razo agreed, the word feeling foreign in his mouth even as he understood; it was only so different from his own native tongue… though he hadn't known that Robby spoke Italian as well as English and Arabic. He hadn't realized Cory did either, though. "Better just to forget." He studiously blanked his own mind; maybe someday he'd get therapy, but for now, repression worked too well to ignore.

He only just kept himself from jumping when Robby dropped his head to the side onto his shoulder. _"Il ne ser un peu plus longtemps,"_ he muttered, sounding exhausted. _"Je vous promets qu'il ne sera un peu plus longtemps…"_

_'Only a little longer…'_ How long had they all been thinking that? Heh, _he'd_ been thinking it since he'd found himself out here. The use of French startled him on some level… but at the same time, he couldn't make himself care about how multilingual the man was. He trusted him… because he really _was_ going to free them.

And it _would_ be soon.

"I believe you," he returned, taking the naked trust the blonde was showing, being this weak and vulnerable, to heart. "Only a little longer."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 2****nd**** – Friday – Brussels**

Dorothy smiled to herself as Jerome let her into the room and focused on Jake sitting on the couch with an array of files around him. Relena preferred to use the table, but sometimes, Jake honestly seemed to have something against more permanent furniture.

She frowned. _Well, no, couches are less movable than tables._ After another moment, she nodded to herself; Jake seemed to dislike furniture that wasn't as _universal_. It was as though he'd been balancing his laptop on one knee while spreading papers over a hotel bed for so many years that doing anything else was too foreign. So, while Relena would sometimes use up the whole of the long table in her suite, scurrying around it to different piles of organization to visualize and keep her ducks in a row, her bodyguard covered the couch and coffee table instead.

She supposed it kept them from mixing up each other's work.

Jake saw her and gestured a sort of hello that meant he'd get to her in a moment before continuing to talk on the phone, and Dorothy focused at the table – only two neat stacks of manila folders, suggesting the princess had finished for the day – before looking to the clock. It was unlikely that her friend was in bed already, though possible… so she was likely showering. Curious, she opened up the top folders on each pile… _Mm._ The shorter was the constant reviewing and survey Relena had running on the hydroponics, and the considerably thicker stack looked like it was the preparation for the amplifier survey. Picking up a few folders and opening one lower down, she nodded to herself in satisfaction; this was a similar set of objectives for a different town near the fields.

_It's a shame Milliardo refuses to acknowledge her._ Her princess could be so obsessively thorough… And that thought made her smile. _She's going to be a __**much**__ better ruler._ Now if only the stoically beautiful man in power would step down or let his sister do more than nibble at the edges…

The heiress paused as Jake said his goodbyes to whoever was on the phone. She hadn't really paid attention to what he'd been saying – that was the polite thing to do when someone in the same room was on the phone – but… "Are you speaking _Swahili_?" she asked incredulously.

"Of course not, it was complete Gibberish, spoken only by the official African People's Republic of Gibberish," the blonde Colonel retorted as he stood and stretched. Tilting his head at her, he added, "Doesn't the fact that you _recognized_ the language say something? You're a Romefeller heir."

Dorothy frowned. He had a point, but, "Everyone who doesn't speak English can speak French," she argued.

He snorted as he walked over to her and play smacked at her hands before neatening Relena's stack of folders. "Spoken like a true imperialist. I lived at the Academy in Tanzania for almost three years, remember? If you don't know the language the locals prefer, they can swindle you twice as easily on bargains."

She eyed him warily for a moment, trying to decide if he'd said it on purpose, then started giggling when he winked. _Swindling in Swahili, really!_ "You're fluent in Swahili but not Chinese?"

"Did I just claim to have _ever_ lived in China?" he protested. "I'm part Japanese anyway, they _hate_ me!"

She giggled harder at that, because not only was it bad, but probably _true_ despite how _little_ Asian blood her friend had. "Well, don't _tell_ them!"

"I'm not an idiot," he returned petulantly, which made her keep giggling, before grinning genuinely himself and shaking his head. "Not that I mind or anything, but were you just here for company or did you have a reason?"

"Oh!" She hadn't actually forgotten, but it was more fun to act as though she had. "I bought a townhouse!"

Well, she'd had an old Romefeller house based in Munich transferred to her direct control, but it was all the same, really…

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 5****th**** – Monday – L1**

Odin smiled as he watched Marlé make a beeline for the specialized electronics store in the little strip mall, deciding to leave her to it; she was having just about as much fun finding what _wouldn't_ work for what she wanted as she was with what would. He was more than happy to let her hash out the experimental stages for now… she was learning far more than if he'd tried to show her… which was half the point of telling her to find something interesting to do.

She hadn't _just_ gotten the kitten for something to 'surprise him,' thankfully.

None of the signs in particular drew his attention, but he wanted Marlé to work without him standing over her shoulder, pressuring or influencing her, so wandered into the neighboring shopfront, which had… clothes. Inwardly, he sighed as he began to walk the racks anyway. He had no reason whatsoever to come in here, he didn't need anything, but he'd gathered that this was what most people did when killing time…

He frowned. _And now that I think about it, Marie's almost grown out of her coat._

Glancing over at the coat selection on the other side of the store, the ex-pilot wondered idly if all these places were carefully molded traps for the unwary spender. If so, they had it down to an art. His theory was only further proven, really, when he remembered why he had been putting off getting her a new coat until they were back on Earth; these were designed with colonial weather in mind, not Earth's deep winter of the past few years. Leia had gotten her a different one for the milder weather here, which was what the girl was wearing now… but as he started to turn away, something drew his eye.

Curious as to _why_ he had noticed it, he pulled the racks apart to see it properly. It had a straight collar with a snap, a row of large but dull black buttons down the left side… a hidden zipper on the inside to the far right. He frowned, still not sure why he was looking at it, glancing back to the rack it had been on to see if it was simply styled differently from those next to it… and blinked.

The old, softened and smoothed areas of the leather glimmered a sort of purple indigo.

He shifted it again to make the light move over it; really, the whole thing shone that dark faded purple-black, it was just more obvious on the worn areas. Overall, it was well-used; someone wearing it would easily disappear into a crowd… Leia and Marie would probably call it 'well-loved.' It was impossible to say how old it was, but it had aged well.

_Aa._ Now he knew why.

Glancing over at the mirror in the back, he shrugged his backpack off his shoulder and pulled the jacket off its hanger, quickly undoing the zipper. A moment later, he was tugging it on… and nodding to himself at the length, which was well below his belt, but not so long as to get in the way. He zipped it up and turned to view his profile. It didn't tug tightly when he rolled his shoulders, and despite his thick sweater, it was still fairly baggy around the waist without being what Dasha had once told him was 'far from stylish,' and the zipper ended above belt while the front was still split, so the metal couldn't clink against anything hidden at his waistline, or rip at his hand if he moved fast… The set of buttons held one flap over to the side, hiding the silver of the zipper. He bent over slightly at the waist and smiled approvingly; it was still long and loose enough, without looking oversized or suspicious.

"…Odin, that's a girl's coat."

He chuckled slightly as he met Marlé's eyes through the mirror before undoing the zipper. "I'm aware; it's not for me."

Lucrezia had been complaining about how the light jacket that she had was short enough that she had to be careful of how she moved or her gun would show. He had borrowed a shoulder harness from her when he had raided that base with her, and hadn't had to adjust the straps at all, which meant her shoulders were roughly the same width as his… so it should fit roughly the same.

And the leather shone purple the same way her hair and eyes glimmered in the right light. It just… suited her somehow.

Looking at the tag, he snorted slightly in amusement. _Conniving trap indeed._ Not that he was opposed to spending money – his means of gaining it were virtually unlimited – but he would have been inclined to buy it even if that weren't the case. It was hard to say how much of that was pure marketing, however, and how much it might be a matter of good taste. "Did you find what you needed?" he asked his charge as he folded Noin's new jacket over his arm and picked his bag back up and slung it over his shoulder.

"I think so," she temporized, still eying the leather garment. "Is that for my mom?"

"No."

"It's too big for me," she noted.

"Observant," he granted as he headed for the cashier.

She just frowned again. "So who's it for?"

He smirked at her; now she was just _handing_ it to him. "A friend."

She gave him an annoyed look. "You have friends?" Her tone was wry.

He snorted slightly as he pulled out his wallet. "Yes."

Marlé rolled her eyes slightly and seemed to think for a moment before focusing back on the coat. "You have a female friend?" He simply raised a brow; she'd already established that, really. A moment later, she grinned broadly, grabbing a candy bar off the rack. "You should give her this too; chocolate's always appreciated." Glancing back at the rack, she grabbed a second kind as well, and held them out expectantly.

There was something deviant about her smile, but after a moment Odin decided it didn't much matter and shrugged, taking them from her and handing the overly expensive sweet to the woman running the cashier. She, in turn, smiled and nodded approvingly as she rung it all up and got a bag.

"You should put them on an inside pocket before you give it to her," Marie added as they walked out.

Odin just shrugged. "Remind me later."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany**

"Lena, we're here," Jake announced brightly.

Relena blinked at her name, moving out of the slump she'd fallen into; she hadn't really thought she might fall asleep. "We're where?" she asked blurrily. There was something odd about his tone of voice…

"Munich. Or specifically, Dorothy's new townhouse."

She was suddenly wary of looking out the window; he was too… amused. That sort of extremely chipper tone that meant he was trying to not cackle helplessly. It was only putting off the inevitable, however, so she looked out her side of the car… and stared. "Please tell me I'm looking the wrong way and it's on the other side of the street," she mumbled.

"Nope! That's it."

…There was nothing to be said for that; she squeezed her eyes back shut and dropped her head back against the headrest. Jake gave in and started laughing delightedly.

When they had told Dorothy where they were planning on going, she had immediately decided she needed to buy some property nearby the princess' new base of operations, and it had seemed like a sensible enough idea, especially when she had agreed to find something in the city proper instead of the quiet suburb Relena had bought property in. She hadn't really thought any more about it until Dorothy had informed them that she had gotten it and given Jake the address when he offered to start setting up security, but really, she should have guessed.

Sighing again, Relena opened her eyes and undid her seatbelt, leaning forward to get a clearer look out the window while she waited for Jake to come around and open the door for her.

_Only Dorothy would call an outright mansion a __**townhouse**__._

"She gave you a key?" Relena asked as they went up the walk, shifting her knapsack on one hip; she had a million and one files to work through while her bodyguard surveyed the… _estate_.

"No, apparently Mitchell recommended her a local skeleton crew staff. At least one of them is supposed to be here." He checked his watch. "And Lin is due in in another twenty minutes or so… So I'm sorry for the hassle, but stay with me until he's here? I trust Dave and all, but I still don't _know_ these guys yet."

"Yet?" she asked curiously, trying to resist from rubbing more sleep out of her eyes; there was nothing there and it looked silly.

"David _did_ recommend them," her friend returned, reaching out to press the doorbell. "I promised to keep my claws retracted until I saw if they had any."

"David has friends without claws?" she asked dryly.

Her bodyguard laughed. "None that I've met so far." After a moment, he added, "Though there _have_ been a few who were extraordinarily good at keeping theirs politely sheathed."

"Oh?"

He gave her an amused look. "I met David because we had the mutual friend of Treize. If you need me to reach further, you might want to either take another nap or-"

"Hello! I'm sorry it took so long to get to the door, we've been trying to get the coffee machine working, and-" The young man stopped in his tracks as Relena turned an easy smile on him. "And, um…uh… _your highness_…"

"You all must get along marvelously with Dorothy," Relena intercepted, stepping forward and offering a hand. "Some days I would swear the woman's veins run with coffee, not blood."

He shook her hand easily enough, though with that sort of awe that meant he'd been wanting to for years now. Then he blinked his way through whatever euphoria she had supposedly struck him with and realized, "You two are alone?" His eyes whipped to focus on Jake. "You-"

"Colonel Jacob Miller," he inserted smoothly. "I assure you that I can adequately guard the princess by myself until the rest of her retinue arrives." He cocked one brow. "Are you going to let us in, or not?"

The man flushed immediately and practically flung the door back off its hinges as he stepped out of the way. "Of course! Sorry, I just-" He appeared to visibly cut himself off and took a deep breath. "Sorry." He almost made to offer his hand to shake, then seemed to remember that he'd already done that, and instead grabbed at the back of his head in embarrassment. "I'm Alexis Engal."

She offered him an easy smile in return as Jake shook his head slightly and shut the door behind them. It really wasn't fair, she'd decided at some long ago point, to hold people's nerves against them. "Pleased to meet you, Herr Engal. Had you finished figuring out the coffee machine yet? I feel I could use the caffeine…"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 6****th**** – Tuesday – Amsterdam**

"I can swing that," Kasey decided after a moment. "It's a little tight, but that sounds like it's what works best for everyone, all around."

The woman gave a relieved sort of nod, biting her lip, so he leaned over and rested a hand on her shoulder, offering his own tired smile. "Hey, listen, it's fine, and if anyone tries to tell you otherwise, just tell any Devil, and I'll take care of it, alright? Nobody's doing too great right now, but…" He sighed and shrugged a little. "Well, it's better than two months ago, right? We've got the whole summer ahead of us now. Just… At the very least, if you think you might run short again, try and warn me, alright? That's what this network is for, I'm not going to put up with anyone trying to terrorize you when sometimes shit just happens."

"They threatened to break in and steal what I _did_ have," she protested quietly. "That I was hiding it, or I'd wasted it…" Her expression hardened. "Like I would waste _food_. Or that my kids would take more than we agreed without us talking about it." Her eyes were worried again, though. "They _are_ eating more, but it's out of mine, not community; my son was the one who was really pushing for us to do this in December!"

"It probably got measured wrong to start with," he soothed. "Or someone double-dipped when your back was turned, or some such like that. A lot of people's gardens came up short too, this kind of thing _happens_. I'm not blaming anybody… but tell a Devil or text Karina von Koll if anyone tries to threaten again, and tell _them_ that they ought to talk to me instead. If they're really wanting, I'll see if I can pinch something together elsewhere. Shit happens, we just have to roll with it."

Mrs. Jansen nodded again, off in her own world for a moment, before blinking at him and smiling genuinely. "You're a good boy, Kasey… good man. Your sister is well? Your niece?"

He couldn't help but grin back at her; it never failed, any woman he talked to always asked after Renee… _everyone_ cared about babies, and with how much sway the Devil's Get had anymore, she was practically an icon. "Everyone's been doing fine on my end," he reassured her. "Renee's fussy lately, but I gather that's normal for teething. Father Espen and the Sister have her right now while I'm running errands." Icon or not, people tended to take you more seriously if you weren't bouncing an infant in one arm, and Sister Isabel had insisted that Nee ought to socialize with other little ones for a while, or something. Personally, Kay thought Isabel just missed having a baby around at that stage where they were finally starting to entertain themselves but couldn't move far enough to be an utter nuisance; baby Abigal was very obnoxiously two now, and the newer orphans they had taken were older… Though the Father had said they were supposed to be getting another infant in a week.

If the kid was of an age to play with Renee, it probably _would_ be good for both of them to hang out together.

"I'll talk to you later, okay? I have a few more people I'm supposed to check in with. Don't be a stranger. And tell Kail I said hi."

The food and work networking hadn't really been his idea, per se, but he was the one who had gotten it set up then deeply rooted, after Luc died. Nobody had much, and usually not enough of something or other, but if you pooled it… it worked so long as the community was mostly honest. After the original organizing points, for better or worse a lot of what he had been doing was _keeping_ it honest… and making an example out of anyone trying to cheat their little system; at least, the ones who cheated more than a little. An extra mouth now and again, whatever… but he'd personally hunted down the last punks who thought they could break into someone's home and steal their supplies just because the didn't live all in a group home and fight like the Devils. There were always exceptions, but outright trying to leech off what everyone else was working for when it was _not_ easy to come by… There were limits.

Since last December… So much had changed, or melted back into brutality, or just… Rina liked the phrase 'gone to hell' and he wasn't exactly the type to disagree, all things considered. Melissa preferred to sigh and just say they were a bit deeper again; he liked that better, but was willing to admit it more or less meant the same thing. Rina had been using him as an anchor after losing Luc… and he'd done his best to be that for her. Then he'd gotten deep into this, and into defending people who weren't too good at it themselves who _weren't_ Devils, and… And somehow, it was May.

He was starting to think he knew literally _everyone_ in the damn city, now. They sure as hell seemed to know him, at any rate… either as a good ally or as some sort of Robin Hood Boogeyman. He, at least, still had his reputation as 'Chaos' even _with_ the baby on one hip half the time, married and everything now, shit… actually, him getting all domestic had somehow _cemented_ it. Family man and… He smothered a grin. _Family man and fuckin' Robin Hood Boogeyman._ He wasn't sure if that was an upgrade or demotion from Shinigami, but it was certainly amusing in its own demented way.

Everything he had done had been for others' safety or to just keep the peace… and the Devils had backed him. Melissa had backed him, and refused to let him just bury himself in the now… kept him rooted firmly, _proudly_ even, in his past, and looking to the future. It _was_ going to get better damnit, if he had to _make_ it that way himself… And somehow, not running from his past anymore gave him the courage to stand out now as Kasey von Koll and hold his ground. No one was looking for him anymore… no one would honestly _recognize_ him without good reason because he was showing them what to see.

Well… he wasn't to go dancing in front of Zechs or people he recognized, but really, no one who _hadn't_ known them was going to either.

It had been interesting to see Hilde again, last March… pleasant even, really. He'd almost been worried that she'd resent him moving on, but his old friend had only been too happy to bounce off with Melissa and chatter like schoolgirls. _Well, after she hit me, but how was I supposed to have invited her to the wedding?_ Not that it had even been much of a wedding, they'd just grabbed whoever was standing closest and run down to have Father Espen finally do it – well, okay, it had been a bit more exact than _that_, but not by a lot – but it had just felt… right. And it still did. And 'Liss hadn't tried to beat him about the head and shoulders with a rolling pin yet, so he figured she wasn't too disappointed. He and Hilde had managed to catch up a little, but didn't talk about anything really that she was doing… And that was good too. Zechs was going to go down eventually, whether he stepped down or was thrown, and then… Well, Melissa had made it very clear that despite the 'von Koll' on their marriage certificate, she was _going_ to be 'Maxwell' once the name didn't imply that they might need to run for their lives.

The idea kinda… made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, to use a cliché.

Though _Treize_ sending some cash as a wedding present through her father had been mildly terrifying. He'd managed to mostly forget that William was mixed up with him.

Shaking his head, he started jogging to the next house he needed to check in on. _Days go as they go…_ He _never_ would have imagined himself doing this kind of social networking shit, though…

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 11****th**** 198 – Sunday – Figueira da Foz, Portugal**

_"Oh, good morning, Sister… Had you wanted to meet for breakfast?" _

Relena carefully forced herself to stop not grind her teeth. She had been pursuing that line of thought for quite some time, so it wasn't too odd of a thought for him… At least, it wouldn't be if he had _ever_ taken her up on it in the past two months or more, or if she hadn't stopped even asking _three weeks_ previous. "I'm afraid not, Milliardo," she returned calmly. "I doubt you're up for the drive."

A pause. _"What?"_

Another slow breath. _Calm…_ The sea wind blew her hair into her eyes, and she shielded the mouthpiece of her phone from the white noise of it with one hand. "I'm in Portugal, Milliardo." She hadn't been in the same _country_ as her brother for over a week.

He hadn't even noticed.

Another pause. _"You're in Portugal."_ There was a steel in his voice that made his thoughts on her 'disappearance' clear.

"I'm surveying field sites for the amplifier inspections," she informed him coolly. "The initial papers have been on your desk for a month; when you showed a total disinterest, I assumed you wanted me to handle it and stop bothering you with the follow-up." Closing her eyes, she bit back the comment that wanted to come out about how he could leave without even having her informed, but he didn't notice when he had _signed off_ the papers for her tour, and that she had followed that schedule to the letter, having left Belgium a day early to see what mansion Dorothy had set up for herself in Germany.

Vindictively, she wondered how many weeks after she literally moved to another country it would take for him to realize she wasn't next door anymore.

He sighed, and it at least sounded genuine. _"I'm sorry, Relena, I've just been-"_

"Busy," Relena finished for him. "Yes, your aides had informed me."

_"Relena…" _

"No, it's fine," she dismissed tiredly before looking back over her shoulder. "I need to go… I had just wanted to say hello, seeing as I haven't seen you properly for a month." _Almost seven weeks, to be accurate._ "Have a good day, Milliardo."

_"You as well, Relena." _

She hit the end button and sighed again, turning to face the wind fully, breathing deep the smells of the sea… She hadn't realized just how much she had _missed_ living by the ocean. Japan had always felt like home when she was a little girl, as her parents had moved there directly after Sanc fell, and she had always reveled in the smell of the sharp saltwater… And she had realized when she had reclaimed Sanc, standing on the ocean cliffs, that the sea breeze had _always_ been a part of what defined 'home' in her mind. She had long loved finding a place where she was just buffeted by the wind, almost as if it could sweep her away… Something about it just made her feel powerful, made her head clear…

"Relena?"

Maybe when all this was over, she could settle back in at Sanc. It hadn't been destroyed this time, and while it wasn't as central as Munich, it was more in the thick of things than Brussels… And she didn't want to use Brussels anyway, after her brother had firmly left his imprint on it.

_Har har,_ she thought sarcastically to herself as she turned to see who was calling her. _**When**__ this is all over indeed. It's nice to be optimistic and all, but don't count your chickens before they hatch… in any case, a few are bound to be useless roosters instead of hens._ "Aa, Lin," she greeted with a smile. _There is absolutely no reason for me to let Milliardo ruin my day._ "It's nice up here, isn't it?"

Lieutenant Lincoln Sobrie smiled back even as he crossed his arms. "If you say so, Lena. It's too windy for my taste."

She grinned in return and closed her eyes as she leant into the breeze, trying to memorize the feeling for the next time she felt down. "How are we doing on time?"

Figueira da Foz really had next to nothing to do with her touring, but this time they had built extra leeway into her schedule, and she was finding it terribly worthwhile. The pressure was nowhere near as high – though she was willing to admit that this slower pace would have been upsetting to her back then – and they had time to get other things done, such as interviewing further staff for the Munich house. Jake had been reviewing files and calling people and arranging visits just so since before they had decided on Munich in particular, but her tour was really the ideal excuse to go visiting in person and work through the final steps. They were hitting two or three birds with one stone.

"We're on schedule, so far," Lin returned amiably. "We might run a little late in the end, though; I think Jake likes this one."

"That's promising," the princess noted, opening her eyes to look down the rail to see Lieutenant de Leon attempting to watch her and mind his own business at the same time. He was actually doing a surprisingly good job of it too. "It's weird, having all these new people around." Jake had slowly been recruiting to replace the men of her guard that Mitchell took with him when he formed up the strike force, but now with the move ahead of them, he was taking up a _lot_ more. It wasn't as though she was left alone with them – Lin was here of course, and Jake generally was too – but… it made her start to realize how foolish it may have been to just put herself in the hands of strangers before. It had turned out fine, obviously, but… she was inheriting her colonel's paranoia, it seemed.

It made her miss Noin more than ever.

Though really, Jake stuck closer to her side than Noin had even at her most protective. Comparatively, she was far safer now than he had been in the war… and it may or may _not_ have had anything to do with the small army Jake was assembling for her 'invasion of Munich,' as David was teasingly calling it. He'd proven when Brussels had been attacked that he could work as his own one-man army… though then of course, he had proven _why_ she had so many guards as she did when he was almost killed in Amsterdam.

…She couldn't think of Amsterdam anymore without a flood of emotions in just about every direction.

She turned an amused look to Lincoln as his teeth started to chatter, which he returned with a glare. "How are you _not_ freezing?" he demanded.

"Look at Marsden," she protested, gesturing toward the other Lieutenant that she could see. The others were all out of her immediate line of sight. "You're the only one shivering."

"I'm shivering because it's _cold_," he argued immediately.

She rolled her eyes a little at him. "Baby. It could be worse." Grinning broadly, she suggested, "I could make you come dress shopping with me and there wouldn't be a thing you could do about it."

"Honestly, I would prefer standing awkwardly in a _lingerie_ store to here right now."

She snickered, feeling her face flush a little. "I am _not_ taking you with me to shop for underwear." He started to roll his eyes, and she couldn't help but add, "You'd tell Jake what kind of thing I looked at, and he'd start showing up with bras as often as he did blouses for me to try." He wouldn't mean anything by it any more than he did the shirts or pants, he could be weird like that, but she didn't particularly need him to make her blush hard enough to pass out. It was bad enough when he'd set outfits out for her when she was in a rush, she _knew_ he had to paw through her underwear drawer in order to grab and pack her clothes but… _Oh God, he __**already**__ knows my taste._ Hopefully he'd already been refraining, and would continue to…

Lin covered his face with his hands, breathing a few slow breaths before he could look her in the eye again. "I'm not getting into that." He grimaced. "And I hate to say it, but… I think you grew, your pants are a little high-watered."

That made her blink and look down. She thought she would have noticed when dressing, but… _Huh._ "I haven't grown since I was thirteen," she found herself noting, dismayed. She had a purely _ridiculous_ amount of outfits, and an inch or so wasn't _too_ big of a deal, but what if it kept going? And as she was now she couldn't let her appearance look at all untended to, despite how stupid it might be. Next she might be fighting pimples, a problem she'd never had… "Shit."

Lin seemed confused that it was bothering her. "Relena, it's a pair of pants."

"_All_ my pants are this length," she argued, frowning. "How much time do we have before we head back into the countryside?"

He checked his watch. "About two hours."

"Alright then," she decided, waving at Lieutenant de Leon and turning away from the ocean. "Let's go."

He gestured in hand signals to de Leon as well, then tapped at the communicator in his collar to tell the others… and stopped to blink at her incredulously. "Wait, are we _actually_ going clothes shopping?"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**L4**

Marlé sighed, leaning back in her chair and rubbing at her eyes. "I'm going cross-eyed," she complained.

"Stop staring at it so hard."

She rolled her eyes. "Any other sage advice?"

"Get a magnifier."

…That was actually a _great_ idea. "Do you have one?"

"Yeah." She pointedly watched him for when he would glance her way and realize she was waiting for him to finish; a glare usually had him realizing she was waiting sooner, even if there was no way he could see it. "I think I left it in Germany."

"Germany?" She rubbed at her eyes some more. "Germany _where_?"

"…Zurich. I think."

She paused to turn and really _look_ at him this time… he seemed to be half asleep on his keyboard, but his eyes were still flicking across the screen. Under another minute's observation, she saw him tilt his head to the left so there was enough room for his right hand to slide under it and tap something out with almost the same speed she saw him type _normally_ with _two_ hands.

She wasn't sure if he was that tired with his body on auto-pilot, or if he was bored enough that he'd decided he wanted to see if he could read something faster if it was at a half sideways sort of tilt. Either way…

"Odin?"

"Mm?"

"Zurich is in Switzerland."

Her pseudo brother stopped and considered that, looking up and to the side. "…I think my stash in Germany is in a box I buried somewhere." He frowned. "Near…. Something tall. With glass."

She tried to keep herself from giggling. He was _really_ tired. "And in Zurich?"

"…#3248."

"Mm?"

"…I'm thinking a safety deposit box, but I'm not entirely sure about which bank."

She smiled and shook her head. She loved moments like this, where he was sorta lazily happy and not thinking in terms of expectation or ability, just… content to give her funny looks for trying to design something for over a week that he could probably hack together in a few minutes. Comfortable enough to do his sorta idle random chatter, not paying attention to his surroundings beyond the fact that she was safe to have nearby.

Her mom had never gotten to be quite this comfortable with him, but she was starting to get close to it, now. "Are we doing anything tomorrow?"

He yawned. "You need to know how to set up temporary perimeter security… and you need to get better at running from me."

Marlé made a face. "I just don't know why this is taking so long for me to figure out," she bemoaned, looking at all the pieces of tiny cell phone hardware. "I thought I had it, but…"

Odin pulled his head off the desk and rubbed at his face. "The next time I say you're overcomplicating it, you should try… uncomplicating it. Instead of going off on a tangent. _Size_ is the secret of what will or won't work, and you know that." He blinked over at the time on his screen before shutting the laptop. "We need to sleep." With an annoyed kind of sigh, he started stretching his bad leg out.

Marie really agreed, on all counts, she needed to just come back to her project with fresh eyes… and maybe give in and ask after the specs of a few communication devices he'd had over time. She wanted to _make_ something… but in the end she still would be, and more examples of functioning pieces would be a good thing to have to understand… and maybe just something that worked in the meantime until she got her thing fully fleshed out.

She really _hadn't_ gotten the kitten as part of the 'be creative' order; that had been random and amusing but entirely unrelated. She had started off on _this_… which was still a mess, but if she could figure it out they'd have, like… the most awesome phones ever by adding something that could piggyback most of the common models they might pick up as they go. _Maybe more of it has to be done through programming, not hardware…_ That would be the opposite take of what she had been thinking before, but maybe…

…Maybe she'd look into that… tomorrow.

She sighed herself, turning off the desk lamp. "Do you want any help with that?" He usually didn't anymore, unless it had been a long day, but they'd also reached an understanding at some point that he found it comforting, or safe, to have her massage the muscles. Well, only the lower leg, of course, the upper would just be… just no, that would weird them both out. It had turning into a sort of trust thing to do over the months traveled… it had almost been a year now since she'd stumbled out onto the wet street with nothing but the pajamas she was wearing. Some days she'd look out at the viciously wet weather and cringe _for_ Odin even before she saw his limp was more pronounced that day.

But today had been a fairly lazy day with steady weather, so he waved her off. She nodded in turn… and went to dig their pajamas out of the suitcase. It was something utterly stupid like four in the morning anyway…

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 12****th**** – Monday – On the road to Serpa, Portugal**

"I feel bad," Dorothy announced bluntly.

Relena raised her brows, not entirely sure how to interpret that. "Do you think you're coming down with something?"

"No, the other kind of feel bad," the woman insisted. "I'm getting stressed again, and bored, and I haven't been able to do anything about it."

The princess frowned, flicking her eyes towards the front of the car to see if Jake had reacted at all yet. He was pointedly focusing on the road for now, though, which meant the ball was entirely in her court… and she did her best to give the subject serious thought. Sometimes it seemed like Dorothy was perpetually about to fall into a depression purely for lack of inspired direction; she could only take causes from others for so long before she needed something _more_. As far as Relena gathered, before she had come back to Brussels her friend had been in a constant sort of manic depression. It was a wonder Milliardo had tolerated her, to be honest; she had gotten more and more unpredictable and unreliable as time had gone on, with occasional lapses into utter obedience. She was terrified of stepping away from either of the Peacecraft siblings, however, of being alone, even if that would make her decisions all her own… Relena thought possibly because Dorothy had only really ever had the illusion of control her entire life, she had no idea what to do with it now that her relatives were dead. Dorothy had rarely been what you could call 'obedient' with them either, but she had known the ins and outs of manipulating those with hold over her, had had a constant play of games and intrigue, half of them made out of boredom…

She honestly believed, knowing the other woman as she did now, that Dorothy Catalonia had come to the school in Sanc purely because it was something different to do, and she was bored. She had talked her grandfather, Duke Dermail, into it by presenting it as an odd sort of espionage, but really… she had just wanted a viable excuse to show off and be one of the girls. It had literally been the first time she had _ever_ attended school, having always had tutors hired for her before, and… well, that actually explained a great deal of her personality and how she interacted with people.

Such as simply turning to someone she looked up to and announcing 'I feel bad' and just expecting Relena to sort it out for her. She respected the level of trust and didn't take it for granted, but really, sometimes… sometimes her friend was so genuinely a _child_ that it was mind numbing.

"Well, what have you tried?" she asked, trying to find enough of a starting point that she could catch her friend before she realized Relena might be just as clueless.

"Almost everything," she returned, sounding annoyed now. "Reading, cooking, gossiping, shopping, finding random little games, and they do help, but not enough. I want to scream my head off at all these old men trying to outsmart me from my inheritance, but I _can't_ do that, and everything just seems so… _boring_."

_Wonderful._ She closed her eyes. _How am I supposed to fix anything with __**that**__ attitude?_ "Has it ever been this bad before?"

"When you were gone on tour the first time," she returned promptly.

"Okay, what did you do then?"

"Well, eventually I started to wander Brussels in the middle of the night to see if anything was different."

_…How is she so deviant and utterly naïve at the same time? What on __**Earth**__ made her think that might be a good idea?_

A little voice in the back of her head pointed out that she'd obviously run out of sensible options, so she'd gotten back to the more random ones. Which, more than her announcement at feeling bad, was what was _really_ indicative of how badly her mood had slipped.

"Which is how I found the clubs."

Relena debated with herself for a moment before deciding that no, there really _wasn't_ a reason to hold back the question. "Why did you go wander the city in the middle of the night _alone_?"

"Well, because none of you were _there_," Dorothy returned with a roll of her eyes. "I'm hardly helpless, and you all were gone and busy, and I couldn't leave Brussels because of your brother making me work for him."

…Meaning she hadn't been able to quit despite hating her position because she hadn't had any guarantee of being taken care of until she was old enough to receive her inheritance. Dorothy was willful and impulsive, but she had at least some of her priorities right. Of course, Milliardo probably would have supported her, but that wasn't a stable enough option in the Romefeller heiress' eyes… and considering her brother's history, Relena couldn't actually argue with that logic at all. Dorothy had pushed her boundaries as far as she thought was safe – which was far further than Relena might have ever dared – but she would only risk so much defiance with someone who, in the end, held ultimate power over her.

Just having Dorothy free of the military had done wonders for her mental health. She would never have been willing to stall the elder Peacecraft for time when they had made their mad run to Amsterdam in December, had she still been on Milliardo's payroll. Relena suspected the move to Munich might do her just as much good as coming into her inheritance had.

"And the clubs helped with the stress, didn't they?" asked Jake from the front seat.

Dorothy ran her fingers through her hair, staring deeply into it suddenly… into the green highlights. And it was only then, somehow, that Relena realized that she had probably done the dye job in the first place for when she was visiting the clubs.

And she had _maintained_ the dye job impeccably despite having not gone once since she was drugged last October.

"There's something unique about it," she murmured after a moment, still focused on the green strands. "I don't normally enjoy loud music, but there… it's almost like everyone's synced their hearts to the beat, like no one's just themselves anymore, they're part of _it_, and _it_ doesn't have to worry about anything, it doesn't have any responsibilities. It's…" She frowned, apparently not finding the words she wanted. "It's remarkable. But…" She didn't look like she was about to cry, but her expression was disturbed enough that it almost made Relena want to. "But it's too dangerous, isn't it?" Looking up finally, she focused on Relena. "That night, it… it could happen again, if I go, so I _can't_."

With that, she focused back on her hair again, and Relena felt like a horrible person for having judged before, or for having somehow brought the subject up. Again, she was struck with how some days Dorothy could be so terribly _young_… but how she wasn't a child, whose world you could easily set to rights with a hug and reassuring words.

She looked up to the front of the car and met Jake's eyes in the rearview mirror for a long moment before he flicked his gaze to Dorothy and announced, "I'm picking my own clothes."

She blinked. "What?"

"Your house in Munich is all set up anyway when Lena's isn't, and we were already planning to stay at least one night there with you this week," Jake continued as if he hadn't skipped to the middle of an answer to a question that hadn't been asked. "You pick the club, and I'll see what kind first so I know the style, but I'm not letting you dress me." His eyes flicked back to Relena. "We'll set it up so Relena has one of her sit still days, so I can sleep in the next morning… But I'll go with you so nothing bad can happen, alright?"

Dorothy's eyes were wide… and Relena smiled as her friend literally _bounced_.

Hopefully, that really might still be enough.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Prague**

Lucrezia Noin sighed as she shut her door, and flopped backwards onto the bed she hadn't slept in for at least a week. Life was… a trial, more often than not. Not that she generally minded, but sometimes, all the little things added up.

Sally had somehow been keeping them hidden, healthy, and fed throughout two continents, which had to be some sort of record, considering how much underground shit there _was_. However, in the end of the day, despite the various jobs the older woman had managed to pick up and do like a pro, Sally was a soldier in name only. So while the blonde's hair slowly turned more of a brown from never seeing sunlight – because Zechs _knew_ he was looking for her – as the woman impeccably kept house, it had fallen to _her_ to work out how to make this revolution _happen_.

There was more than one reason why Sally hadn't even begun to properly fight until almost fifteen months after _Libra_'s fall; she'd needed someone else to run it. And it had taken about that long for Lucrezia to pull her shit together and decide what she wanted – no, _needed_ – to do.

She still didn't properly understand depression, despite what Sally said. In the end, you got tired of crying and found something else to do. Break down enough times, and you begin to resent the man who'd done it to you… especially when you honest to God _knew_ that none of it was your own fault. In her head she'd known that from the start, but it had taken time to convince the rest of her… and in the end… well, there wasn't much left in her for Zechs Marquise except contempt. To have fallen so low… she would never have imagined. Maybe he'd just been weak, despite whatever he wanted, but at the end of the day, it was the consequences that mattered, not the reasoning. She couldn't even pity him anymore.

Stealing things from him in her Hilde guise had been outright cathartic. Before that, training Hilde into the lean little psychotic ball of muscle she was had been deeply vindicating, considering how once upon a time the girl had tricked and betrayed him to try to save them from the _Libra_ folly… the fact that she had gotten so _good_ at it had been an added bonus. Flying Heavyarms was an amazing, fantastic, exhilarating experience… she never would have imagined how different it could feel to fly a gundam…

But she knew she would freeze up the moment she tried to fight him directly in it. She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her hands around the blanket. It wasn't _fucking fair_ how he could do all this to everyone, to _her_, and she couldn't even fight back, not truly. So she flew Heavyarms now… but avoided the man she'd once loved religiously.

And she'd actually told Hilde and Xutao that it was because she was worried he would recognize her style of fighting. And they either believed that shit, or knew better than to question her. Everyone was supposed to be allowed their own issues, right?

She sighed and rolled over onto her stomach to stare at the wall. Direct, personal opposition or not, Sally planned for survival, not war, and they were running low on fuel cells. Not just standard fuel cells that they could raid the Regime for either, the really complex, high-end ones that you could keep a village-sized space station afloat indefinitely with three of, one on, two off at any particular time. The kind that you periodically burned out, when you were using it to run a gundam.

The kind whose production was strict as hell on because, you know… you could use one to run a gundam. Heavyarms was _nothing_ like flying other MS, it made her old Taurus look like one of those foam kickboards kids played on in the pool when learning to swim, but God _damn_ did it use up a fuckton of energy.

So she could keep their gundam running for maybe another two months, if she played it right… which meant maybe not letting Hilde and Xu take it out again after all, because they were sloppy. Well, not Hilde, at least… she hadn't let Xu fly it yet because Schbeiker just outperformed him no matter what he tried on the sims, but he probably had a better concept of conservation than the little spitfire did.

So she had a month, maximum, to figure out how to solve that deficiency. She'd already shaken down the Maguanacs for any assistance there without much gain… despite his nature, Quatre apparently hadn't ever shared the interworkings of Sandrock with them beyond asking for specific tools or more generic sort of tasks. She'd had her boys trying alternate versions of various power sources for the past two months with what had originally looked promising, but now appeared to be an utter dead end. And she wasn't quite confident enough in their abilities to have them try to take apart one of the cells they _did_ have to try reverse engineering how to make one of the damn things. It was starting to look like that might be their only chance, but she wasn't _quite_ the desperate yet.

Maybe in another two weeks.

If it wouldn't _kill_ one of those space stations, she'd steal one from there. Or out of a colony hub. But she had something against possibly condemning a lot of innocent people to vacuum. It would be a bit in line with, you know, dropping a battleship on the planet. She'd never been the type to go jump off a bridge just because everyone else was doing it.

…Jumping off a building. Out of a fifty-story window. She'd watched the remnants of the satellite backup feed on that stunt as well as hearing Relena and Sally's alternate versions of that story… and she hadn't been too sure what to think. Heero had stabilized by the time she saw him again in Sanc, even if he probably _hadn't_ by the time she brought him to fight Zechs in Antarctica… Then it had been like seeing someone else entirely when he had joined her and Sally on _Peacemillion_. That boy had been solid as well as confident, and even… wise, in a way. He'd talked Wufei into staying and helping them, he'd gotten Quatre to successfully use the Zero system, he'd been the calm presence that anyone with half a mind could see Duo _needed_; he had changed so much as to seem an almost impossible contrast to when she had gotten to know him and Quatre in Sanc…

And yet the young man she had met with a handful of weeks ago was, again, an entirely different person. She supposed she had never known any of the five _well_ to begin with, but just the same… _Hm._ He'd had someone texting him randomly before… she'd gathered that doing so herself shouldn't be a problem. She had no long-term gauge on his personality, really, but from what she had managed to gather so far…

_Well, it couldn't hurt to ask._ Shifting onto one elbow, she fished her phone out of her pocket and started trying to compose a message that would look innocent in a general sort of way. _"I'm trying to figure out how to power your old friend's boat. I don't suppose you'd know where I could find any batteries for the thing?"_ She didn't actually expect any kind of response, but that should be obvious enough for an ex-gundam pilot to understand… and probably snort at, because she'd just called a gundam a _boat_. Really… She rolled her eyes and snorted. Really, _she_ should be offended by that… a _boat_?

It was probably around time for her to admit to herself that she was exhausted and sleep deprived and that she should start ignoring the bundle of nerves going nuts in her belly and just pass out in spite of her next pending meltdown.

She must have followed her own orders for once and begun to doze, because she jumped hard when the phone chirped that she had a new text message. Groaning, she grabbed it and flicked it open… and snorted. _"Do you have any idea how hard those are to get through security?"_ No actual question, no annoyance, no poking fun at her, no underestimation… just that dry sort of confidence, maybe some incredulity, as he pointed out a different problem entirely.

_Well, it was worth a shot._ Idly, she wondered if Quatre knew how to make them… though of course, that involved finding the Winner Co. heir in the first place. But he had constructed Wing Zero on his own, hadn't he?

Her phone chirped again and she blinked at it being another message from Heero's phone… and laughed. _"Was there anything else you wanted?"_ She could just _feel_ the sarcasm, and she _totally_ deserved it too.

_"Heavy artillery shells and a pony."_ It was somehow so _unique_ and eye-catching to get a smile or amused look from Mr. Perfect-Soldier, as Duo had called him, that she just couldn't pass up the opportunity. The way he'd laughed and _played_ on the phone when he called her a few weeks ago had been astonishingly soothing, in a way… she supposed because he just… however confident he'd been on _Peacemillion_, he'd still seemed broken somehow, and he didn't, anymore.

_Chirp._ She hit the button.

_"…A pony?"_

She just started giggling hard at that point, because really, he had apparently missed her point _entirely_… And she hadn't had this level of amusingly stupid conversation in a while. Shifting again so she could hold the phone properly enough to type easily, she added, just in case he got the idea that she was _serious_, _"A pink one."_

He didn't immediately reply to that one… and so it was that she found herself drifting back to sleep. She was willing to admit that she might have really needed that little bit of laughter… and sleep was more than welcome.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 14****th**** – Wednesday – Sahara Desert**

In retrospect, he really shouldn't have volunteered for this. Someone had neglected to mention how hard it was to run in sand. Or how little or much the dunes could hide. He hadn't felt this flatfooted since his anti-grav simulation… and these psychos were somehow both everywhere and nowhere at once.

Sam tried to react, he _tried_, when someone tried to slam into him from behind, but all he managed was to not take the hit as directly as he saw a glimmer of a blade in the moonlight. Fuck, they were _used_ to these kinds of conditions…

He wasn't going to make it back to the ship.

Despite that haunting his mind, he was far from giving up, trying to fight back blindly, everything shadows and glimmers and splotches of less dark on pitch black as the clouds moved back to hide even the glimmer of moonlight that gave him a chance at all. But just when he was finally convinced he was utterly damned, bleeding from a few places, he heard an odd sort of gurgle… and the clouds parted enough to see the silhouette of a taller man standing at his attacker's back, holding his arms to his sides with one arm, the other holding a blade that didn't glimmer anymore as blood poured from the first man's neck like water out a faucet.

They met eyes for a moment, his rescuer calm and intent as he dropped the twitching body in the sand and raised one finger to his lips in a motion of silence. Next was a sort of "follow me" gesture… and then the clouds were back.

Before Sam could decide what to do, he felt someone grasp at his shoulder and mutter, "Sound barely carries, but a shout will. We've led them away, but you need to move. I know a building nearby to pass time before they move on. No one will count heads or recognize the body until morning." The hand shifted to grasp his forearm instead. "This way."

"My ship will leave with or without me soon," Sam protested in a weak whisper as he weakly followed.

The man paused. "Where?" Sam licked his lips and said the name of the town, to which he nodded. "There, then. This way." He started off in a slightly different direction than before.

It wasn't too long before walking blind and the confusion and silence was too much. "Who are you?"

"Talk low, don't whisper. The dunes mask sound, but whispers carry further than a low tone." After a moment, he asked, "You're military? What are you doing in this hell?"

"Scouting." He tried to keep his stomach from twisting, but it was a lost cause.

The man let out a bleak sort of chuckle. "You found more than you wanted, then. Will the military come?"

Sam licked his lips again. "Once we know enough, yes."

They walked on in silence again for a while before the man finally asked, "If we give you information?"

"We?" He was breathless, though he wasn't sure if it was fear, exhaustion, or the possibility of what his rescuer might be saying.

"My squad was gathered by a man trying to find a means of escape; we've not found a way out, yet. He can tell you where all camps are situated, when."

His heart was pounding. His mind was flying a mile a minute, remembering what he was or wasn't authorized to do… Colonel Mitchell had said he hoped, but didn't expect it… "How many camps all together?"

"Eleven," he answered with no hesitation. "Eleven in the Sahara between here and Egypt in the north; I don't know about in the Sudan. Mine is the closest to here, right now, to these waters… my squad the second furthest west."

He took a deep breath. "Your leader will meet with mine?"

He hummed slightly in his throat. "In eight days? Where I leave you?"

Sam thought he was going to die from how hard his heart was pounding. Still, he made himself think, adding together how much time Mitchell might want to gather everyone first… "Ten."

"Mm." Another moment passed. "My name is Vaska." Then, "I want to see your face before you're gone, and see you again in ten nights."

And that was how he got shafted into coming back when he'd been swearing he never would less than ten minutes before.

_oOo_

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_oOo_

**May 15****th**** – Thursday – Munich **

Relena frowned and looked up from her map as she heard Jerome's communicator say that the car Jake had taken out with Dorothy was coming back in. Checking to clock to be sure she hadn't just lost track of time, she set her pencil down and looked over to Lieutenant Moretti. "Rome?"

"They're too early," he agreed, turning to follow her when she stood and walked out of the room. She made it to the top of the stairs before she heard the kitchen door slam open, and stopped there, waiting. She was planning to immediately ask what had happened, but as Jake stormed around the corner and stalked up the stairs, her throat went dry.

She hadn't thought much about them going out, and had been in the shower when they had finished getting ready and left. She hadn't thought it would be such a difference, but… she hadn't _thought_… and she wasn't entirely sure she _could_ think as heat swirled through her face and down her body…

He looked like something out of a rock star magazine.

His hair was spiked instead of its usual tousle, which made the contrast between all the shades of blonde that sharper. His shirt was high-collared in an Asian style and sleeveless, nearly skintight, black with some sort of deep, bright blue pattern she didn't pay attention to beyond how it made his eyes look _electric_. And… it took a moment to realize _why_ his eyes sucked her away from the sculpted arms and form-fitting leather pants, the click of his two small hoop earrings in one ear clinking as he tossed his head. She couldn't help but breathlessly conclude that she was never going to protest the idea of a man wearing eyeliner ever again. It made the almond-shaped tilt of his eyes suddenly obvious, made him look Asian despite the cobalt eyes and blonde hair. Everything about him just exuded power, dominance…

She fought to keep herself from starting to breathe too hard, her whole body wanting to shiver from something that wasn't cold. Watching his muscles glide smoothly into his motions was suddenly taking her whole attention…

She fought to steady herself, but she had never seen anyone so… so _purely_ masculine sex appeal less than two yards away from her – coming closer much, much faster, fast! – let alone have it be _her_ colonel, her best friend, Jake.

She was too breathless to ask what was going on. What focus that wasn't entirely lost on him was being spent trying _terribly_ hard to not show how weak her knees were getting, despite his irritated beyond belief expression and body language as he more or less brushed past her and continued to storm the suite they had commandeered in Dorothy's house. She turned to watch him go, still confused and gathering herself back up… as he slammed the bathroom door behind him and the water started running.

Slowly, she turned wide eyes on her green-haired friend. "What did you _do_?"

"I- I didn't!" the woman protested instantly, looking frantic. "I mean, we were there! And it seemed like- I didn't think he'd be all- He's _mad_! I didn't want to make him mad, I just- Well, I guess it wasn't really- I should have thought about it- But he's _crazy_, why would that-"

And wasn't _that_ reassuring. Walking back towards the bathroom herself, she gestured Dorothy after her. "You need to _apologize_." Now that she wasn't going weak in the knees, she was more or less positive that that expression had meant he was forcing himself to not break something.

"I did!" she protested immediately, for all that she followed. "I did, over and over again but he won't even _look_ at me!" If she wasn't there already, the girl was fast approaching hysterics.

The water turned off and, looking close to tears, Dorothy cried out, "I'll never do it again!"

"I should hope not!" He made an aggravated sort of noise. "Just give me, like… ten minutes, and we can go back."

She went still at that, obviously not expecting the concession… before squeaking happily and running out of the room… probably to change who knew what part of her outfit. Relena shook her head, starting to wonder if it was even worth asking at this point, when Jake let out a heavy sigh and opened the door.

She managed to control herself better somehow, even with him bare-chested, a towel hanging around his neck. He still made her heart pick up and thud harder than usual, but… well, she could get past that.

Probably.

He looked so very tired, in a put upon sort of way… but at least the anger was gone. She didn't think he really had it in him to hurt Dorothy, he catered to her like a little sister and he understood how much she really needed him as a stable person she could look to, but apparently the heiress had just discovered at least one of his limits. "She's not driving you insane, is she?"

He sighed again and reached up to pat the towel better around the nape of his neck. "Only mostly." She saw the glimmer of black calligraphy tattooed on his left side before he dropped his arms again and moved to hang the towel back on the rack.

Still… she frowned. "Did she actually upset you that much?"

His eyes narrowed. "She _knew_ better. And this way, she won't follow through on any weirdass urge again, because she'll remember tonight."

Relena understood… but she was dying of curiosity now. "What did she _do_?" It was good to know he'd been blowing his own reaction out of proportion, she supposed.

He snorted, picking his shirt up off the counter and pulling it back over his head. "Honestly?"

"Truly."

Jake looked at her with that sort of sideways tilt of his head he usually did, and heat swirled through her body again. Shaking his head, he reached up to do the buttons on the side of his collar. "She _licked_ me."

…And all her thought processing crashed to a halt. "She _what_?"

He started snickering, leaning back against the door. "Yeah… my thoughts exactly, Princess. My thoughts _exactly_."

She started chuckling helplessly herself… Then outright laughing as she realized that he might have been blowing it out of proportion to make sure Thea never repeated her actions… but he'd also felt the need to _come home and wash_.

"I know what you're thinking," he argued after a moment, tilted cobalt narrowing, "but I don't think _you_ appreciate my situation."

She just laughed harder. In some ways, he was just as bad as their friend. He really, _really_ was.

* * *

_**oOo**_

_**End Progression**_

_**oOo**_

* * *

**Thoughts, questions, theories? So much of this chapter was the final trying to get the ball rolling in all courts… And I really don't think 16,200+ words makes up for the shitty timing, but hopefully it at least helps.**


	4. Stranger Things

_**Stranger Things**_

_Life is infinitely stranger than anything the mind could invent… _

– _Arthur Conan Doyle_

* * *

**_oOo_**

** Edited through chapter three some more, and fixed a date so that the Chinese are scheduled to arrive later than originally planned. **

** Edit: There were some problems with my original geography of the events taking place in the Sahara Desert. There are no changes in this chapter, but there were a few minor ones in chapter 3 **_**Progression**_**, but nothing really plot-intensive, just strategy and tactics, movements that don't matter too much to the plot beyond the fact that what I had had down didn't actually make sense, in the end of the day. If you're rereading and want a more comprehensive summary just on those details changed, I've explained at the beginning of chapter 5 **_**Breaking the Rules**_**.**

**oOo**

* * *

**oOo**

**Holy shit, Lieutenant Lincoln "Lin" Sobrie is a real, fully-formed character… Believe it or not, it was only partway through this chapter that it **_**occurred**_** to me that he's the only minor bodyguard that I've ever used the pov of. And who has been in every stupidass situation they've managed to get into, and I have a **_**ton**_** of detail on him and next to nothing on the others… How did I **_**miss**_** that? He was the first frickin' bodyguard beyond Jake or Mitchell that was named too… **_**every**_** minor bodyguard point of view is from him, from minor shit to being freaked about Mitchell when Brussels was attacked, to seeing Relena coated in Jake's blood… and he and Relena are totally rather good friends at this point. **

** …I need to go tackle my subconscious and tell it to tell me when it's doing shit I'm apparently too busy to notice… I'm still not too clear with how I manage to build and back and foreshadow stuff like that without even noticing until afterwards, when it's all perfectly lined up, beyond the fact that my subconscious still has better footwork than me, and catching up is often interesting…**

**oOo**

* * *

**oOo**

**May 20****th**** 198 – Tuesday – Swiss Alps**

"What is this again?" Noin asked as she slid her gloves on, checking to make sure she had everything she wanted before they got out of the cab of the truck. The details hadn't concerned her too much before, as everything was in line and they'd had a long drive ahead of them. Ahmad had pulled out his knapsack as soon as he'd turned off the engine, however, and was opening the file.

It was late at night in some out of the way area starting to return to wilderness, as uninhabitable as it was. Grimacing, she rubbed her leather-clad hands back over her face; already she was missing the heat that had been pouring through the vents while the engine was still on. They weren't exceedingly far off from anything, at least not enough that trucks driving through would seem odd, but there was no one within a hundred miles either, which made it an ideal Sweepers drop spot.

Three years ago, this had been a countryside resort sort of destination, the kind of place where you'd bring the whole family for a ski resort in the alps, to have fun in the snow before curling up inside with a cup of hot chocolate and good company, because you were all on vacation and doing nothing of import was the entire point. It was human nature to enjoy groups and trust like that… the kind of thing her family had done before her mother had gotten sick and she had talked her father into letting her go to the Academy, because joining OZ wasn't the same thing, really, as signing up for the Alliance; it was supposed to have been safer, more exclusive… And even after she had gone to Africa, snow lodges were the kind of place all the Noins would have family reunions, where they went when she took a vacation back to Europe. She had reveled in the cold as much as the love of her family, then, enjoying the escape from Tanzania's heat.

She still hadn't decided what she thought of the fact that her father's favorite resort, before it had shut down with _Libra_'s fall, was only twenty miles from here. There were so many emotions mixed up in the idea that she wasn't sure how to even begin unraveling them, or if she wanted to in the first place. She hadn't spoken her father for years now, and probably wouldn't for months more yet.

She was in the process of winding her scarf higher around her face when she noticed her Maguanac friend was frowning. "Ahmad?"

"The details are wrong," he muttered after another long moment. "It says the drop was done by the _Raka_, but she hasn't been in the right sectors for this in over a week, I'm nearly positive. The container size is also not their usual, though not an uncommon type." He looked up at her seriously, brow furrowed. "I would not have signed off on this without greater explanation, Lucrezia, but it's already approved."

Her thoughts swirled violently as she tried to consider what this might mean. "There are far easier methods to hurt us by." If this had gotten through security as much as Ahmad was suggesting, then it had taken an intricate amount of both knowledge and footwork. If someone knew enough to slip this through, then this was one of the most inconvenient and contrived traps she'd seen since she turned seven.

"I agree." His look was curious, yet understated.

Lucrezia understood the unspoken question, and fingered the fringe on her scarf, considering. She _did_ have at least one friend that might go through that kind of backwards effort… but she was fairly sure that if he had found her, Jake would have tried something more personal and direct than this. She didn't have any enemies this convoluted, however… not unless it was somehow Treize, but, like Jake, this wouldn't be his style. Une's, perhaps, but the insensitive bitch had been decapitated in front of a live crowd in January of 196; it wasn't like a firing squad, where something could have been faked. In any case, if Treize _were_ to realize where she had disappeared to, he would offer an olive branch of some sort, not a space capsule carefully hidden from surveillance to one of their less common drop spots that was rigged to explode upon being opened. She was against contacting her one-time instructor not due to a perceived possible violence , but because she was unsure if he would allow them anything even approaching equal footing when he thought he could suck the advantage out of them at a lower cost to himself.

_Maybe Jake's worried about where we stand._ But really, she couldn't talk to Jake any more than she could talk to her father; there were too many factors to consider, and those were only the ones she was catching. Knowing her old friend, he was probably neck-deep in intrigue without letting anyone know he was playing puppet master. There were days when he was frighteningly like Treize, only lacking in anything even approaching etiquette.

"Not to suggest anything rude," she returned after a moment. "But are there any chances that this is just a mistake of our own, on either or both ends?"

"A chance, yes, of course," he agreed easily enough. "But it's a chance with the kind of odds that I would not hesitate to bet my firstborn on. This would _have_ to have been a mistake between more than three people, all of whom know their jobs well." He pursed his lips. "But I see that you're not appropriately dismayed enough for this to be taken as a dangerous threat we ought to simply drive away from." Tilting his head slightly, looking at her oddly. "General?"

She let out a sigh. "It's either neutral or friendly, I'm nearly positive. I can think of allies who might do something like this as an oblique favor, but we should triple check everyone once we have it open… and open it remotely." Sighing, she opened the door of the semi, picking up her duffel as she slid down to the ground. "I'll set up the relay, you tell the guys what's going on."

Ahmad's tone was jovial. "Yes, ma'am."

It was a few minutes later, when she'd made her way to the top of the massive thing and she could hear her men laughing and joking with each other as they came close, that she saw the inscription roughly hewn into the surface near the release – probably with a high grade blowtorch – that her heart skipped a beat and she realized she could do away with a lot of extra work.

_239s138._

"Change of plan," she called down to the others as they drew close enough to hear. "We can do this fast after all, the sender left a note by the catch."

"A note?" Kyle called back, incredulous.

"A message that only two young men and I would know the meaning of," she clarified, feeling a grin spread across her face. 239s138 had been the code to get down to the MS she'd stashed away in Sanc without Relena's knowledge, and she'd _only_ ever shared it with Heero and Quatre. She'd cleared the access for Relena when they realized there was no real hope left for the survival of the little kingdom, ripped the manual decoders she'd installed off the walls and took them with her to burn them personally so that the knowledge of the code was kept sacrosanct… pointedly to maintain this kind of veracity.

The fact that it had taken extra punching of keys to make the s lowercase also indicated that it wasn't someone else. Though looking at the handwriting, she almost pitied him for trying to scrawl out a proper s crudely enough that it _almost_ looked like the 6 that you had to add in the right timed sequence to get the lowercase. Whatever he'd used to etch the capsule deep enough to survive a fall through the atmosphere must have been rather unwieldy. Then even with that consideration, she was fairly sure that Quatre's writing would likely _still_ have been elegant. Her money was on Heero.

"I'm opening it," she yelled. "Everyone clear?"

"Wait," Ahmad called back. A minute later, from a greater distance, he assured, "All clear!"

She punched the universal release and balanced on the skeleton cap as the shell cracked and flowered open into a collapse on all sides. Directing her flashlight down, she could make out at least twelve massive crates, industrial grade, but not much beyond that. Her men were running back her way, curious to see what this mystery shipment was, as she gripped the base of her flashlight between her teeth and began to carefully maneuver down the central pole she was standing on. This was one of the more nicely designed capsules, from what she could tell… and far from the idiot-proof kind. That meant high grade, better than the usual supplier sort that was designed to maintain a seal against hard vacuum and be ready to almost crumble apart by the time it hit dirt, as they weren't really designed for atmospheric fall; the fact that they could had only made them more useful than anticipated after their original uses were over with.

The crate she landed on had a Barton Foundation insignia boldly stamped into the metal.

Lucrezia considered that for a moment, guessing as to the contents, before shrugging and tumbling the rest of the way down to the ground. The boys had just gotten the first crate open one of them gasped. "General?"

She was already sprinting and was directing her light on the object almost before he'd finished calling for her… And resisted the urge to gape disbelievingly. "Get it out," she urged, backing up to allow them more room. "Let's make sure before we get too far ahead of ourselves, the cases might just be reused." But as they moved to obey her she was thinking how it was the right size, that there were no shifting sounds as they levered the casing out, the case itself was stamped just as clearly with the Barton Foundation insignia and _sealed against vacuum_… that there were _seven_ more identical cases still in the crate…

Neil let out a sigh of reverence, obviously resisting the urge to run his hands over the components. "This is legit," he breathed. "Never used, never _opened_…" He looked up at her with wide eyes as she knelt down next to him to stare herself… then jump back to her feet and spin on heel when she heard a commotion from the next crate over.

Apparently they'd started on opening the next one while she was busy gawping. "What is it?"

Geoff laughed a little incredulously. "Well, I'm not _perfectly_ sure yet… But this might make more sense to you than me. Catch." Reflexively, she caught the object he threw at her… then blinked at the… toy.

…A little pink plastic toy pony with a lavender mane and tail and some sort of raincloud design printed on its ass.

She managed to keep a straight face for all of three seconds before she started to laugh herself hoarse. _Oh __**god**__… And I told him to, didn't I?_

"Um… General?"

She held up a hand for him to wait – incidentally, the hand holding the damn _pink pony_ – trying to collect herself… and ultimately failing.

"Lucrezia?"

She managed to meet Ahmad's eyes about the same time they started to tear and had to wipe at them, but managed to get her voice back somewhat. Clearing her throat, she admitted, "When I told Yuy I wanted artillery shells and a damn _pony_, I didn't think he'd take me seriously."

"Yuy?" someone asked in surprise.

Geoff started snickering himself. "_Yuy_?"

"Apparently he managed to find himself a sense of humor over the past two years," she agreed. "Shit…" She started laughing again, though not quite so hard. "I asked him if he knew where to find any damn fuel cells for Heavyarms and he just said something about security on them being hell, I didn't think he'd just…" But really, Heero _had_ always delivered, hadn't he? Covering her face with one hand for a moment, Lucrezia took a deep breath and shook her head. "I think he took my sentiments a little too literally."

"I think I might be inclined to agree," Ahmad noted, amusement creeping into his own voice. "Though next time you might tell him in advance how to properly go through our channels. He might find the security less… rigorous, than with his own version."

…He _had_ just dropped a capsule all by himself, somehow. _**How**__ do you drop one of these at the right angle for a perfect trajectory entirely on your own?_ Not even going into how he _got_ the fuel cells in the first place, but-

"General?" Geoff called, sounding even more deeply amused. "Looks like this crate's all artillery shells specially designed for the original Heavyarms model."

…And there just wasn't much to say to that either. After a moment she pulled out her phone, then made a disgusted noise as she tucked it back in her pocket. "Load it all up, we'll take a closer look once we've got it home. As soon as I've got a signal I'm calling the jackass and demanding to know how the hell he pulled this off."

"Don't forget this!" Ahmad reminded her brightly, handing her back the little pony doll she'd thoughtlessly passed him to pull out her cell.

"Oh yeah," she snorted as she snatched it out of his grip. "Can't forget _that_, he probably bought it special for me and everything, I'm pretty sure he only _stole_ the rest of it from God knows where… Knowing Heero the going to the store probably took a lot more effort."

"Likely enough."

She snorted again. "I'll remember to ask for something cooler next time."

"A sound idea."

Lucrezia growled and halfheartedly threw the doll back at her friend in place of a retort, to which he caught it and maintained his broad smile… and she decided to just give up. Walking back over to him, she snatched her damn pony back and went to tuck it into her duffel so she could help her men load everything. She'd finish working out how to react after the work was done with.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 23****rd**** 198 – Friday – Hortobágy, Hungary**

"The inn's got their reservations correctly; after the last place I walked through and checked myself," Sergeant Recine told her as soon as she opened her phone. "They offered to include breakfast while the techs are here at a flat rate discount to you, but I wasn't sure if that was a good idea."

"Ask if they'll keep the offer in mind for another three days; that's the next time I'm scheduled to talk with the program director," Relena returned quickly, long used to the question after the last week. "I'm not sure how wide their palates are, and if they're going to look at us like we're crazy for wanting to eat something other than rice for breakfast, I don't want to put money down on it." Tilting her head to one side to hold the phone against her shoulder, she jotted down the note that the question had been asked again. "They have an indoor pool, right?"

"And both hot and dry saunas," he affirmed. "I'm told this is a major tourist throughfare."

"It used to be," she agreed. "I don't know about lately, but they're more than welcome to try for it. See if it's anything extra for them to have access to those; these people are going to be working long hours on their feet or with their backs bent and necks craned, I'm sure they'll appreciate a few luxuries." She focused on the approaching officials she needed to talk to and added, "Text me the number, I think I might be in the middle of something in a moment… I can type a yes or no one-handed."

From the tone of his voice, her new lieutenant was smiling. "Yes ma'am."

"I appreciate cheekiness," she noted in amusement as she hung up. Focusing on the people now in front of her she smiled, even while in the back of her head she was noting that Jake was only three paces away, on the phone himself… but his body language was such that he could move at a moment's notice.

She hadn't decided yet if she appreciated how contagious his paranoia was. She liked being sure of everything around her, enjoyed the easy confidence she had earned in respect to how fast she could and _would_ respond to a threat, but some days it seemed terribly ridiculous. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

"Er…"

"We didn't hit our quota outlined last fall," the second man announced without preamble, in sharp contrast to his partner. "The winter wheat crop didn't turn out well, whether because of the amplifiers, the soil, or our people being unfamiliar with the plant, we're unsure."

Relena nodded curtly. "That's actually been true of most areas, and it's one of the things the technicians are going to be looking into trying to see what the underlying problem really has been. Winter use was never fully approved, we just thought it would be best to try anyhow." She glanced over at Jake, and the leather bag full of all the official files for this town he had slung over one shoulder. He caught her eyes and nodded slightly, even as his lips started to move in response to whoever he was on the phone with; likely trying to wrap it up. "Do you have the numbers with you, or would we need to go to your office?"

The more nervous of the two blinked in seeming surprise. "Oh, in the car…"

Jake snapped his phone shut and took the few brisk steps towards them. "You're not scheduled to check out the school for another hour; if you keep Recine playing errand boy and send him to check on the roads, we can have Lin work out the other hospitality requests, so you're clear to do this now."

She frowned. Lincoln she knew could handle the more delicate or opinion-based work without her input and get it done in more or less the manner she would prefer, but she barely knew Vaughn Recine at this point. "If you think Recine can get it done."

"It's actually more of his kind of thing than anything else we've had him do so far," her bodyguard returned with a shrug. "Honestly, if he can't, I'm letting him go and finding someone else; his experience with cars and working with the Department of Transportation was the deciding factor for taking him."

"Oh, _he's_ the one you were reading those reports about," Relena exclaimed, the pieces clicking together. Turning to smile apologetically at the two men, she explained, "Nearly half my staff is new right now, I'm afraid. I lost them all to recruitment for the Anti-Anarchy and Terrorist Strike Force, and I'm still filling in the gaps." The nervous man looked a bit more nervous – probably at the implied skill level required of her staff in that statement – but she was flicking her phone back open in response to a text, and hitting the call button a moment later. As soon as Vaughn said hello, she ordered, "Go ahead and do it. When you're done, I need you to check for transportation for the technicians, make sure everything's in line there, and check out road conditions. If there's any work that needs to be done to make them perfectly safe, we've only got three days to fix it. If you're not sure about how urgent something is, rank it so we can decide on priorities when we've got everything laid out in front of me."

"Got it," the lieutenant agreed quickly, followed by his muffled voice telling someone to go ahead and add that to the final papers. "Anything else?"

"If you need any more detail or instructions, call Colonel Miller's cell. Go ahead and text him once you have an idea of how long this might take you to get done so we can keep a running timetable estimate between everyone." She checked her watch. "Go ahead and find yourself lunch before you get out in the middle of nowhere, we'll probably eat while you're gone."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Take care of yourself," she reminded. "There's a reason we're checking the roads, and I've read your record, I just found out."

He _laughed_. "I was wondering if you'd connected that… And I'll be careful, thank-you, Miss Peacecraft."

"Darlian-Peacecraft," she corrected. "If that's too much of a mouthful, just use my first name."

"Yes, Ma'am, sorry about that." He seemed to consider something for a moment. "I'll tell the colonel if it's otherwise, but I probably won't be done until after four."

"Thank-you. I'll see you sometime after four then. Bye." She hung up and looked back to… the one man standing in front of her. The calmer of the two offered her a smile, and gestured back towards the entrance to the building. "He's getting the papers. Sorry for the gawking… If it wasn't terribly obvious, I feel the need to note that he's new."

Relena laughed at that, reaching out a hand to shake. "I thought I remembered your face from the last time I came through here, but I'm afraid I don't remember your name at the moment. And it's fine." She winked. "I get that kind of reaction quite often."

He chuckled as he took her hand. "I imagine you do. Ted Carson, Miss Darlian-Peacecraft."

"Oh, you're either observant or have a good memory," she returned cheerfully. "I like that."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 24****th**** 198 – Saturday – The Sahara Desert**

"Yeah… I really wouldn't recommend it as a winter vacation home."

Colonel David Mitchell turned to give the other man a disbelieving sort of smile, honestly more grateful than anything that the… _prisoner_ had managed to maintain his sense of humor somehow. "Are you sure?" he asked in a low tone, so as not to have the words spread far if it was somehow a joke in bad taste. A lot of the time what was funny from someone five steps beyond jaded was utterly unacceptable coming from someone who hadn't lived through the same plight.

To his relief, the man snorted. "Well, only if you installed a swamp cooler." He chuckled a little disbelievingly himself. "I can't even _remember_ what air conditioning feels like anymore…" His brown eyes turned more serious. "With this… we could go home?"

_Straight to the heart of it._ And really, that was what David preferred. "Yes, as the area is neutralized."

"You're leaving things out just to lead me into asking more questions," Charel – the man's first name was something with an r that Mitchell couldn't remember – returned quickly. "None of us want to be here; none of us _ever_ did. I was vacationing with my girlfriend in Cairo, where it was still warm, when our hotel was gassed. Cambyses rarely take women to quarantine; I can only hope she died quickly, but to be honest, I doubt it." His voice gained steel as he finished speaking, his eyes narrowing. "They starve the ones who refuse to fight, monsieur; and that rule only applies as long as you survive your cellmates long enough to catch notice. There was never any choice."

David closed his eyes briefly as he felt his chest constrict. He'd more or less known that, but it was something else to hear it stated so simply, point blank. This was what made this area so hard to even begin cleaning up, but the fact was that it couldn't _all_ be ignored. "I won't pretend to understand, but it's also obvious that the brainwashing _has_ worked on a great number of men," he muttered in return, focusing on meeting those burning brown eyes. "I've confirmed that I can offer amnesty to those who help us fight Cambyses down, but anything else is in flux right now."

Someone standing several yards away, near the small bonfire that had been set up before he and his men arrived, caught his attention. Tall, probably over six foot, the man was staring at them now… the relief cast by the firelight gave his eyes and fair hair an eerie sort of glow. There was something almost dissecting about that stare... But then, everyone looked creepy by candle-light.

"Only if we fight?" the squad leader protested, drawing his attention back. "_That_ is vague. How much fighting? For how long? We have been under suspicion for nearly a year now! Roshan is only looking for a reason to have us killed. From this far east, it could take over a month to leave Africa, hiding from raids the entire way. That's what we have been _trying_ to gain the resources to do for months."

It was a relief when a shorter man came up then, giving Mitchell a moment to regather himself after that dark sneer. "We're still good," he muttered quietly. "Perimeter's empty as can be… they probably didn't think it was out of character for us to draw this far out after we had people come though here last week."

The leader rolled his eyes, gripping at his blonde ponytail in a stressed sort of gesture. "Good… at least the territorial part of the reputation still runs that far…"

The younger shrugged. "Reputation's never been an issue." He focused on Mitchell warily, but still with curiosity. "Are we…"

Again, that stressed sort of body gesture, tugging hard on his hair. "I'm working on it."

Mitchell's heart skipped a beat as he really _looked_ at the newcomer, saw him clear in the face… "How old are you?" he demanded in a whisper, wanting to be wrong more than he could even imagine thinking…

The blonde over by the fire shifted a little abruptly, but it wasn't him that the colonel was paying attention to.

The teenager blinked. "What day is it?"

Mitchell licked his lips, trying to keep his belief suspended… "May twenty-fourth." After a moment, he added, "198."

Another slow blink, then a shrug. "Thirteen, then."

_Oh God._

Charel shifted to ruffle the boy's hair. "You needed the date?" he mumbled worriedly.

Another blink and shrug. "Last week, I guess… May nineteenth. I didn't think about it."

The man hummed deep in his throat, a sort of understanding, before gesturing towards the man by the fire. "Go make sure he didn't just hear something…"

"I saw too," the boy agreed, trotting off.

Silence hung between them for a long moment afterwards, before Charel offered, "Cory's been here longer than I have. I'm not sure how he made it before that… But if he's right about his age…" He sighed. "I don't _think_ he's been here for a full two years, but I know it's been at least fifteen months. He doesn't like to think about it, though, so I haven't asked." The one by the fire gestured at him and Charel nodded, relaxing slightly… before focusing back on Mitchell, eyes tired but hard. "Does _he_ have to fight for your Regime to be free too?"

David's heart just sunk deep into his stomach again as the negotiations actually started.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 26****th**** 198 – Monday – Near L3**

"Hey, Mom. You got my email, right? Yeah, sorry about that, it was totally my fault… Well, no. Okay, it was _mostly_ my fault, Odin was the one who decided that not letting me have a phone until I worked out the kinks was good motivation… Um, no, not really… But… Well, I _did_ work it out better than I'd been thinking…"

Odin shook his head slightly as he slid the faceplate of the phone open and started punching in the preliminary codes for Earth. If he'd had any idea how long it would take Marlé to work out her little program and device, he would have gotten at least _one_ new phone for stand-by purposes, but by the time he'd realized that the situation might become nearly as obnoxious to him as her, he had gone too far with it to turn back. He thought he had done rather well, giving into his frustration in a sort of objective lesson for his… sister… that she would learn well from without actually suffering anything, but… he hadn't expected her to take another five days to make something _functional_.

In retrospect, he could admit that allowing her to conveniently destroy their second phone in retaliation might have been childish. But then, she had to learn a few principles somehow, and the best way was to let her make the mistakes, provided they were sufficiently low risk.

Frowning suddenly as he dialed Noin's number, he paused before hitting send. It _had_ been five days since the drop… And while he had never perceived Noin as anything approaching temperamental, that was still rather… brusque, of him.

…Leia was invading his vocabulary more and more as time went on. Pressing send, he glanced back over to the twelve-year-old, still talking to her mother in a wheedling tone. He tried to remember if he'd picked up any of Duo or Quatre's vocabulary during his time with them… but eventually had to decide that if he had, it hadn't bothered him.

"Who is this?" Noin demanded as she picked up.

"Heero." The name was common enough that that shouldn't suggest anything if the line was randomly scanned.

"Oh good, it took you long enough," her tone relaxed, though it turned sarcastic. "Did you forget you switched phones?"

"No. You got-" he scanned his mind for a good word, quickly, "-your present, right?"

"Oh, I did… you had us worried until I saw your scribbling. That was a nice job, by the way; for a hacksaw."

"I didn't have a hacksaw," he returned mildly.

She made an amused sort of noise. "In any case, yes, I _did_ appreciate it… though if the same idea crossed your mind again, some warning would be nice. I'm not a fan of surprises."

"Noted."

"Where did you find all that, anyway?"

"I raided an old friend's stash spot," Odin explained. "I honestly doubt he even still remembers it was there, but he seems to like you well enough." He felt his lips twitch. "He gave you his boat, after all."

Noin chuckled. "I'll admit that that was bad phrasing on my part, but I was half asleep." She paused for a moment before adding, "I wasn't exactly serious about the horse, by the way."

He smiled outright, glancing back in Marlé's direction. "I didn't think you were." But he'd been at a total loss for what it _did_ mean, and had had to ask Marlé to explain it, at which point she had insisted that it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. "I apologize for the phone trouble, however." Normally he thought he would have left it at that, but after a moment of silence on the other end, he felt the urge to add, "It caught fire."

She made a noise that he suspected was a smothered chuckle. "It caught fire?"

"Yes."

"How, exactly, did it manage to catch fire?"

He met Marlé's eyes when he glanced her way this time, and rolled his own. "It might have been thrown at my not-hacksaw."

"I did _not_ throw it!" Marlé protested immediately, and rather loudly.

"Hence the word 'might'," he retorted, sure that Noin had heard the girl clearly. "I still found myself dodging a projectile while holding an instrument that could etch neo-titanium."

"It was an _accident_!"

"Which is a far more frightening concept altogether." Considering the soft laugher coming through the phone, he debated for a moment before deciding it couldn't hurt to ask the more experienced. "Is there anything worth teaching beyond practice for zero-g?"

"They work out most of the kinks after the first few incidents," she noted in an amused tone. "I never had more than a handful of injuries in a group. It sounds as though she's already discovered the most dangerous aspect, in any case." He made a noise of understanding, and he supposed he heard half a hesitation before she asked, "How did you learn?"

He shrugged, shifting his weight and pushing off against the wall slightly to put himself into a slow spin. Marlé had asked him the same question. "I don't recall it ever being a new concept." The rules for working in zero gravity environments were as deeply ingrained as those for walking.

"Mm." She sighed out another chuckle. "Is this the person who texted you before?"

"Marlé, yes."

"So doesn't _she_ have a phone?"

"I might have neglected to point out that she left it on top of the capsule after the fire."

"He was being impossible," Marlé protested, tucking her new phone into her pocket as she gently pushed off to come closer to him. "He's good at that, in just about any context."

Odin blinked, considering… remembered Sally specifically asking him to turn off the New Edwards self-destruct simply _because_ she had said it was impossible. "Agreed."

"See?"

Noin laughed outright. "I've noticed."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 28****th**** 198 – Wednesday – Cremona, Italy**

"Mailin Marakesh," the Asian woman – well, mostly Asian, probably – greeted easily, her accent odd, though familiar enough that Relena knew she ought to know it. "It's a pleasure to know I'll be working with you, ma'am."

"Just Relena, please," the princess returned, taking her hand to shake. "And I'm looking forward to it. It will be nice to have another woman to talk to."

In all honesty, she was reeling in that she now had a _female_ bodyguard… And then the recoiling at the fact that she _was_ reeling for that exact reason. In all honesty, she just hadn't _thought_ about it… but she'd never questioned that Jake was only staffing men.

At least, until now, of course. And she _knew_ it was a matter of him picking the people he thought were best suited, and that until now it just happened out that all of them had been men… But _wow_, that was so beyond bad of her to be thrown by him hiring a woman. With Jake, it just meant that he'd finally found a woman who met his standard… and statistically speaking, far fewer women made it onto his radar than men did, that was all.

Hopefully she wasn't blushing from the sheer level of embarrassment she was keeping carefully inside her own head.

Mailin was smiling conspiratorially. "That so? Tired of all the eye candy about?" she gestured negligently in the direction of the table, where Lin and Jake were debating over the best way to do something or other.

Relena snorted, "Most certainly not, but it's been a while since I've had genuine, trustworthy women nearby." She sighed a little nostalgically. "The boys are great, but I do miss Noin. She was all power, poise, and grace."

The woman pursed her lips. "The Colonel said Dorothy Catalonia was often about?"

Relena snorted. "You can figure that one out when you meet her."

"Oh… dear." Mailin's lips were twitching slightly. "That sounds terribly interesting."

"That's one way of putting it." Tucking her hair behind one ear, the princess considered the little kitchen they currently found themselves in. "Did he say whether he was putting you on day or night shift to start with? He's passed me so many folders at this point that I honestly can't remember what details belonged to who anymore." That and people in full military uniform, staring at the camera with stoic expressions, usually didn't look much like themselves. On top of that, Miss Marakesh had arrived at their day's cubbyhole – _excuse me, __**safehouse**_ – in casual dress to make her introductions. Jake had already mentioned that she wouldn't be starting formally until next week, but she had arrived earlier so as to get a scope of things before fitting in.

…Which most likely meant she _was_ day crew, come to think of it.

"Ah, I might have been a bit abrupt, then," Mailin returned with a smile. The accent of the word 'bit' was odd. "I'll try again, ah? I'm Major Mailin Marakesh, and I specialize in languages, among other things; your colonel's made it rather clear that he has no desire to try to learn Mandarin in two weeks."

Relena grinned at that. "I remember now." There had only been three original candidates out of thirty-five or so above the rank of lieutenant, all three majors… and only one of them with an emphasis on languages. _And that would explain the hints of an accent._ "Australian, right?" _The higher rank would make sense too,_ the candid voice in the back of her head muttered. _In terms of Jake hiring a woman._

She was never going to live this down, even though no one else was _ever_ going to find out. _All that matters is that she __**is**__ capable, and __**has**__ proven herself through experience and rank._

"Give or take," she returned with a shrug. "I managed to live just about everywhere, growing up; immersion's a great teacher, really." She shifted her weight, eyes focusing on her with a sort of intent curiosity. "Chance had it that I went into the reserves shortly before the world nation was declared, and only just came back in. Nothing against you or anything, but I'm glad, despite the circumstances, that Milliardo Peacecraft dissolved it with the rise of the Regime."

"The world nation was a madhouse idea of Duke Dermail's that I was manipulated into conceding to," Relena explained firmly. "The leadership of it was pushed on me as part of the conditions of my country's surrender, and wrestling back out of the role Dermail was trying to puppet me into took quite some doing. I'm not sure I agree with all my brother's solutions, but I believe it's an improvement to trying to oversimplify all peoples for the sake of an aristocracy's convenience."

Mailin was smirking a little now, arms casually crossed over her chest. "Bravo," she drawled in a happy sort of tone. "I'd more or less figured, but it's nice to hear from the source, as be." She tilted her head slightly. "You're not getting on as well with your brother now?"

Relena raised her brows; that was a nice, cut to the point question. "No, I'm moving to Munich because I want to devote all my free time to sitting at his feet looking pretty."

The major laughed delightedly, her eyes sparkling. "Right then, I deserved that…" After a moment, she looked around the kitchen too, almost as if trying to see what about it had caught Relena's attention before. "When are you planning on doing the move itself?" She frowned as she focused on the sink. "Tell me that's not your set of pots and pans."

"I think those are too corroded to be safe," Relena returned dryly. "Jake got frustrated with Sergeant Krititz earlier and told him to go clean something."

Mailin looked back to poor things skeptically. "Well they're obviously not clean… so where's…" She looked up, thinking for a moment. "Carlisle? Where's Carlisle now that he ditched?"

"Possibly hiding from Jake," Relena noted thoughtfully. She hadn't gotten even a vague sort of impression of the man yet, beyond the fact that her colonel had looked like he wanted to rip the poor man's hair out earlier.

"Consensus is, the damn pots are a lost cause," Jake noted in an amused tone. "He's cleaning the bathroom."

"What did he _do_?"

"He didn't listen to what I was _saying_ because obviously he's known me for a day and can read my thoughts," the colonel explained dryly. "Assumed interpretation gets people killed, so he can do menial shit until he remembers he got promoted three weeks ago because I thought he had _potential_, not because he's hot shit."

"Ah." Turning back to Relena, the Australian woman shrugged. "Makes sense to me."

"That's comforting," Jake noted with a smirk. "I'd hate to toss you back for lacking common sense."

She chuckled. "Common sense is a malleable term. I've spent the last three years on leave managing a precocious pair of toddlers; I think, after that level of mischievous creativity, I can handle anything on the more sensible end."

"Oh, 'sensible' might not be the most applicable word," Relena found herself muttering before she thought.

The major barked out a laugh. "If any of us were entirely sensible, Ma'am, we'd all be running like ninnies for the colonies."

"They're too overpopulated by now," Lincoln added cheerfully as he came up to the kitchen's island, rolling up something that was probably either a map or a blueprint.

"You checked?" Her tone was innocently affronted.

"I have _some_ sensibility left," he agreed, eyes sparkling. "Enough at least to never work under Colonel David Mitchell." Jake started to outright cackle upon hearing that, and the lieutenant moved around him to offer his hand. "I was busy before… So hi, I'm Lieutenant Lincoln Sobrie. Pleased to meet you, Major Marakesh."

The brunette woman smiled easily and took his hand. "Sure. And if we're going to be informal at some point, I prefer Mai."

"Wonderful, we're fast becoming the band of lazy nicknames to the point that we could possibly move as a group and already be disguised!" Lincoln went on… exuberantly. He was in an odd mood at any rate. "Lena, Thea, Spiderman-"

"_What?_"

Relena started giggling hard as her lieutenant went on to 'explain'. "No, no sir, you've already been dubbed by the princess, it stands-"

"How did you get _Spiderman_ out of-"

"Lin!" Relena protested around her own laughter. "I didn't mean for you to-"

"In any case," Lin continued on as though none of the protests had begun, "Then there's me as Lin, and Rome, Mars, now Mai, and I've a few creative ones in mind for the newer ones… Vaughn's can't have anything to do with his real name, it's already only one syllable."

Relena pressed one hand to her forehead, giggling helplessly. Lin probably had a point, but… _Wow._

"So… welcome to the madhouse," Jake noted dryly after a moment. "We'll see if you can earn yourself a name as _dashing_ as _Spiderman_."

Relena just found herself laughing harder.

"I _do_ want to know what I did to deserve that one at some point."

The princess nodded, still trying to get herself otherwise under control.

"…Yeah, I think we'll get along just fine," Mai decided after a long moment. "I actually had my nephew convinced I was a superhero for almost a year. He was three, but it was still seriously almost a full year."

"That _has_ to count for something," Lin agreed happily. "Right, Jake?"

"I did _not_ start this one, Sobrie, it's _all_ yours…"

Still not able to work up enough air to speak, Relena walked around the counter to wrap her arms around Lin, giggling into his chest.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 29****th**** 198 – Thursday – L3**

"Well, this has certainly been a lovely afternoon, Madam Victroff," Dorothy announced with a smile, gently patting at her lips with her napkin. "Much better than I had prepared for."

The older woman smiled as well, but while still polite, it was… amused on a more visceral level, and the light in her eyes made the implied danger missing from her tone quite clear. "It was a pleasure to meet with you, dear. I wasn't expecting the company, but I could hardly leave you on the doorstep."

Dorothy found herself briefly considering whether or not she might be able to safely leave the neighborhood at this point, let alone the colony; it warred with her growing genuine _like_ of this woman the more time she spent with her. She was fairly sure, but… it had taken _such_ effort to find even a glimmer of a trace of her, and not all family was alike… though in some ways, they truly could be.

Her stomach dropped at the implications of that thought.

After another moment, she carefully announced, "My initial comments were not actually meant as blackmail, Madam."

"Oh good." Theratrice Victroff flicked her hair slightly, smiling even more charmingly, as something about her made the Romefeller heiress' sense of danger skyrocket. "That could have led to a poor evening."

Dorothy decided, as electricity seemed to run up and down her spine a few times, that she _really_ _did_ like this woman; she was all steel glove wrapped coyly in velvet. "I merely had to be sure I caught your attention enough to speak with me at all, I'm afraid," she went on to explain. "What I actually had in mind is a prospect that would hopefully be quite mutually beneficial. I simply came with no predisposed way to gauge your reactions."

The smile widened slightly as the woman glanced towards a clock, then immediately back. "So I'd surmised, over the past hour. I'm willing to satisfy my curiosity… so long as you manage to make a point before my husband returns with our daughters. By then, I suspect we'll have to settle at some stopping point or other. Exactly what would depend on the situation as it stands by then, of course."

Another invigorating shrill ran through all her nerves as Dorothy smiled back and leaned forward in her chair. "Of course. Allow me to start concisely instead of simply at the beginning, then…"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**May 31****st**** – Saturday – L4**

It was coded.

Normally, that kind of thing didn't bother him; codes were meant to be broken, after all, and he honestly couldn't remember when Odin had first started to teach him the ins and outs of computer systems and their securities. But this wasn't _encoded_, it was _coded_, which meant it wasn't an encryption or anything he could mathematically break down. It was a riddle in more ways than he knew he was currently even perceiving, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with electronics beyond the fact that the scripts were on hard drives.

When Quatre had cheerfully informed him it was secure – after explaining that he wanted Heero to take all the original information on Zero and hide it where he couldn't find it on his own – it hadn't occurred to him that the other pilot might have taken the extra step to also be sure that no one could understand what they were looking at even if they knew what they held in the first place.

…At least, he was fairly sure it had to have been Quatre. He wouldn't have put it beyond Dr. J or the rest of the Mad Five, but he was fairly sure that the bits of language he could make out looked like a long-extinct dialect of Arabic. That last just struck him as _very_ Quatre… especially considering he was mostly sure that he had see lines of it in Wing Zero's startup sequences, but not in Wing's. The same mix of symbols and scrawl had also formed up all of the really deep-level coding of the machine itself… and considering the nasty shocks he'd gotten when he tried to alter any of that, he was relatively sure that the design both had traps built into it and had been made to be utterly incomprehensible to anyone _but_ Quatre.

The Winner heir hadn't exactly factored in that anyone else use might use the suit when he'd been building the gundam; everyone who flew it afterwards had to learn to deal with its quirks. And everyone had learned early on that trying to dive into Wing Zero's base program protocol was either suicide or homicide, depending on which trap you managed to trigger. You had to take it as a whole, or stay away from it entirely, and the only one who probably _could_ understand it, Odin was now realizing, had been Quatre, who had refused to go near the machine again.

No one had exactly argued with him over that decision, however. And there was a very deep wisdom in coding the only remaining knowledge in such a way so that only Heero and Quatre working together could bring the system back to life.

Odin frowned. _That's not technically accurate either, though._ Epyon was equipped with the Zero System, which meant that Treize had at least had it at some point. He probably still did, as he couldn't see the general willingly throwing away knowledge, but Treize had also denounced mobile dolls and thrown out everything to do with them before… and Zero didn't exactly have a good track record. He had claimed to want to give Heero Epyon in the first place because he'd made it for himself, then found himself unable to master the system.

If Treize still had one of the working copies, he was keeping careful watch and control over it.

He had started hiding the pieces of Zero that Quatre had entrusted him with as soon as they had escaped to Earth and split up, and had been sure to be both random and widespread about it… thirty small drives in all. He hadn't done it very quickly either, he had still been spreading them by the time he joined Noin, Howard, and Sally on the _Peacemillion_. He hadn't picked them all up yet, but he was reasonably sure he'd hidden them well enough to successfully avoid any casual perusing.

He wondered if half of Quatre's shock over being told he'd had Howard add Zero to Sandrock was over the idea that maybe he _hadn't_ hidden the knowledge away as he'd promised. After all, most of the panic had faded out once he explained it was a literal copy from Wing Zero, which was located right next to the first catalysts for the suits' self-destruct mechanism, so that even if the function failed, like it had in Deathscythe, the initial sparks would still destroy the system itself… and he had been half convinced that his copying it was going to trigger the self-destruct mechanism anyway. Quatre _had_ programmed it to do that… but Heero had found three separate lines of code that seemed to connect the two devices, and had decided it was worth the risk, as he knew Quatre wasn't anywhere near his own level of programming.

Then after _Libra_ fell and they had both crashed, they'd set the self-destructs on both gundams, so the only functional Zero system out there at that point had been the one in Epyon. But presumably if he'd experienced electrical fires in Wing Zero, then Zechs probably had in Epyon, so the program was possibly compromised there as well. He was fairly sure that the version of Zero that Dorothy had employed to direct the mobile dolls had been taken from Epyon – Treize likely hadn't justified booby-trapping his gundam against outsiders, as he had simply given the suit away – but the system Dorothy had employed had died with _Libra_… and Odin didn't trust that Treize didn't have a corrupt version of the system to start with. He could only have gotten the information in the first place from either the faction who was experimenting on Wing Zero after it was taken from Quatre, or from the Mad Five when they were hidden on the Lunar base, creating the Vayeate and Mercurius while secretly rebuilding Deathscythe and Shenlong. In either scenario, it was highly likely that the information taken for the program was either corrupt or sabotaged from the beginning. Personally, he thought there had been something… _maddening_ about Epyon when he flew it, almost like it curdled bloodlust, and that wasn't a side effect he would put past the old scientists past adding in to discourage its use.

Turning his attention back to the compilation of data he'd found on a few of the drives Quatre had given him so long ago, he had to admit defeat; he'd been trying for weeks now, but he'd basically just come to the conclusion that he needed Quatre in order to decipher it. There was a chance that the Maguanacs would know, but the longer he thought about it, the more he worried about those tricks that had been in the working version on Wing Zero. It wouldn't be out of character for Quatre to have sabotaged his own failsafe any more than it would for Dr. J. His old friend had designed this so that only both of them together, live and fully willing, could revive the thing that had led him on a mass-murdering spree.

Despite this being an excellent plan, it was incredibly frustrating when one considered how long the other pilot had been missing, and how he was possibly dead.

Closing the window he'd with the information and into and leaning back in his chair, he turned to see Marlé entirely focused on the book she was reading. Leia had been pestering them about when they might be back next, and he supposed they might as well go back and visit for a while before heading back to Earth to give Sally the bad news and enlist the Maguanacs' help with Quatre's cipher. After that… Well, he wanted to push how fluently Marlé could manage her German… and there was always something else to do as soon as they finished one thing. It would be easier to just go now, but… Leia and Mariemaia had been apart from each other almost their entirely lives, when neither of them had wanted to be. Despite the mutters in the back of his head about wasting time and decreased efficiency, of how superfluous he'd allowed himself to become… he respected that. The mother and daughter were innocent in all this, and protecting that innocence was why he had agreed to abandon the original Operation Meteor when Dr. J suggested it. The innocence of that girl and her puppy he still felt guilty for killing in collateral, of the pacifists he had unknowingly slaughtered at New Edwards, that Relena seemed to exude no matter how dark the hour… That was the point of all this. He hadn't exactly been innocent when Odin died but even then, that innocence was still there… and he liked to think he might have followed a better path if his father hadn't died, and he hadn't found himself blindly going wherever his feet led him.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket with the intention of calling Leia to say she could expect them in a day or so, only to see "Lu" at the top of his recently called list. She'd programmed it into his first phone that way, so he had recopied it that way himself… though he wondered if it was to help mask her identity should the phone fall into the wrong hands, or if that was what she used now. After all, Sally had never gone by "Po", but he had never been curious enough to ask why everyone used Noin instead of Lucrezia. He was hardly one to fuss with what name someone was using at any particular time; he was known to respond to numbers, after all, and he'd gotten the impression that most people considered that to be fairly demeaning.

_I should ask if there's anything else she needed from space._ Or if she wanted whatever he could find in Trowa's other various stash spots that was related to Heavyarms, at least. He'd only visited the ones he'd been closest to at the time, and it had had a lot more than he thought she might expect, so he'd left it at that, but it would be worth sorting through the others before returning to Earth even if he didn't take anything. For all that he lived a pretty Spartan lifestyle, Trowa had always had something of a packrat tendency; if he found something that he thought might be useful at some point later, he pocketed it, then tucked it away somewhere so he could find it again. It was actually watching Trowa successfully hide away and retrieve a number of things – which had inevitably been more or less perfect for what they needed at the time – that had inspired the way he hid things later in the war, then the Zero system drives.

And he hadn't been joking when he told Noin that Trowa probably had no idea he even had the power cores and artillery. Zero had given him something back when he flew with it, but the Trowa he'd met on _Peacemillion_ hadn't been the Trowa who'd patiently nursed him back to health then followed him around the globe. Duo hadn't seemed to have noticed that the post-amnesia version wouldn't have even considered punching him in the solar plexus to pass off information, and Quatre had been so relieved to have him alive and back that he hadn't delved into it.

He considered his phone for another moment before selecting 'Lu' and flipping the cover up so he could access the keyboard. If Trowa showed up and called the debt at some point, it wasn't like he wouldn't go out of his way to make up the difference somehow, and Noin's needs were likely more immediate by both his and Trowa's standards. _Besides, by giving her Heavyarms…_ Smirking, he glanced briefly back to Marlé. He didn't appreciate all of Leia's colloquialisms, but her daughter's were usually somewhat entertaining on some level. _He started it._

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 2****nd**** – Monday – Skopje, Macedonia – Early Morning Hours**

"Jake?"

Relena woke up to the quiet call, but didn't move more than to open her eyes. After a moment she registered that it was David's voice… And she pushed herself up on one elbow. "Dave?" He wasn't supposed to be in the same town as them, she was positive. Jake was sitting up too from his bed, a few feet closer to the door… David was coming through the connecting room with the rest of her guards.

"Sorry, Lena," the colonel muttered, sounding half-asleep. "I didn't mean to wake you up too…"

"What's wrong?" Jake asked as he flicked on the lamp and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. "I thought you were in, like… Giza."

"I will be tomorrow," his friend returned, and he sounded not so much tired, Relena realized, as… hollow. Like he'd gone through so much emotion that he'd just poured it all out until there just wasn't anything left to be upset over. He was still fully dressed and didn't look rumpled physically, but you could see the exhaustion in his stance. "I decided on a later flight time… Can I talk to you?"

Jake's mouth firmed as he nodded, reaching for his shoes. "Sure, just let me get dressed, and we can-"

"I'll just go in the other room," Relena argued, standing up and absently brushing her hair out of her face. "You can talk in here, I'm awake anyhow."

David Mitchell sighed and sat down on the bed next to his best friend. "Thanks, Lena."

"It's not a problem," Relena assured him, walking through the connecting door and closing it behind her… and smiling at Cassidy. "Hey, you."

Her ex-bodyguard smiled wanly back at her. "Hey, Lena."

She frowned slightly, then covered it with the same sort of tired smile. "It's that bad, huh?" Whatever was bringing David down had Cassidy too… Which probably meant it was work-related.

He sighed. "Pretty much. Mitchell's taking the emotional brunt of it the worst, though… I think he needs Jake to reassure him that he's not Satan incarnate for having to hold his ground on this one."

She sighed. "He'll set him right, I'm sure." From what she knew about the Cambyses situation, it was far more than simply 'complicated' both on a logistical and a moral level. Cassidy probably didn't want to talk about it any more though, and she didn't particularly need the nightmares unless he _did_ need someone to talk to himself… And if that was the case, he'd redirect the conversation back to it. Instead, she pulled him into a hug and sat down on one of the couches of the suite the night guards were sprawled around. "How's your hand?"

He smiled as he leaned back into the cushions himself, holding up the scarred appendage for her to see, flexing it. "Still weak, but good… definitely no permanent damage, beyond the scars. The docs said that so long as I keep up with the physical therapy, those shouldn't become a problem either, but there's still a chance I'll have to let them work on it again eventually. Shouldn't be for a few more years, though."

"That's good." Considering how horrible it had looked that day in Amsterdam, she had worried it would always be debilitating, or that he might lose it entirely… but despite Doctor J's Captain Hook routine, medicine had come a long way. Taking his hand in hers and running her fingers gently over the lines, she looked up and winked at him. "You impress anyone with how wicked this looks yet?"

He grinned back at her. "All the time. No girls yet, though."

She snickered. "Well, I get to be the first, then." Carefully blanking her face, she smiled her politician's smile and in her most proper tone informed him, "This looks totally badass."

He managed a straight face for about ten seconds before they both started snickering.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 3****rd**** – Tuesday – Sahara Desert**

"That's… not so bad," Nick muttered after a moment. "I mean, it's not great, but…"

"But it's better than anything else we're going to get," Razo finished for him with a sigh. "Honestly, it's better than I expected."

"Cory makes an effective guilt trip," Robby tossed out carelessly, not looking up. "The colonel let you push the envelope that much harder because he saw how young he is."

"He's genuine, though?" Razo reaffirmed, frowning. He was more or less positive that Colonel Mitchell was being honest, but Robby's opinions of people were nearly flawless. And…something felt… wrong, about how Robby had been handling all this.

"He is."

"…Free," Sagan muttered after another long silence. "We're… we're really going to be free again. Just a few more weeks…"

"It feels surreal," Vaska agreed quietly, his eyes far away. "I'm putting off telling the others until I can believe it's really true myself. This is… a dream, right now."

Razo licked his lips, looking to Robby, wondering why he wasn't-

"We'll need to organize this," Robby announced at last. "Make sure everyone gets their moment of shine for the official affirmation, with minimal risks. I'll draw it up once we have everyone's confirmation."

…And that was when everyone _else_ realized Robby was being wrong. "Confirmation?" Nick dared first. "Who _wouldn't_?"

"Who can't," the blonde returned bluntly, looking off into the distance, not meeting anyone's eyes. "This is a good opportunity, and not to be passed up, but there are exceptions to every rule." He finally did look back to them, and while they all expected his eyes to be smoldering, they were really just… resigned. "Don't assume that just because you've found a solution for yourself that it will work for everyone, Nick, I know you know better than that."

Another long silence spread between them as the others tried to digest that and Razo tried to fit the pieces together again. Finally, Razo decided he might as well step up to the plate. "You'd lose the amnesty; they could legally hold you accountable for your time here."

Robby laughed a little dark chuckle that tended to make a chill run up your spine, though this time, it seemed more… hopeless. "Not if they don't catch me."

_He didn't want to come near that colonel or his men… He wanted to be there and to watch, but he didn't want them to __**see**__ him…_

Another pause… then out of nowhere, Cory announced, "I'm going with Robby."

"No," Robby snapped, though his voice was dry. "They'll take you home, it's best."

"You can take me home," the boy argued immediately. "What if no one's there anymore? _They_ won't care."

Razo could feel the palpable disbelief of the others at Cory's attitude… or hell, over the fact that Cory was even speaking more than three words, actually. That Cory dared to talk back… but then, Robby wasn't keeping up his mask either. Everyone knew he favored the boy, but they also knew Robby should have smacked Nick for questioning him, and it was perfectly clear that their blonde leader was past caring at the moment.

He'd kept them all alive and as whole as he could… but he'd kept himself at a distance with a persona in order to do it. And if they were going to be safe after all… then maybe the man was just _done_.

"Robby?" Vaska asked after a minute, when it was clear the man wasn't going to answer Cory in any way. The blonde shifted slightly, so they knew he heard, but it was another long pause before he spoke.

"We're going to be free again. We're going to be our _own_ again. I got us here to start with, but follow your _own_ paths… I've got to follow mine." That said, he stood and just… walked away.

Nick trembled slightly, staring after him even after the man had ducked into his tent. "Did that just happen?" he asked, sounding a bit incredulous.

Cory frowned. "He's scared."

"Scared?" Sagan demanded, sounding outright disbelieving.

"It surprised him too," the boy admitted. "I think he'd forgotten how."

"It's in his head then!" Nick hissed. "It's time to celebrate, not freak out!"

_He was so wary of the military men…_ Razo had taken it as the usual caution, Robby's usual paranoia before, but… "He doesn't think he'll get the amnesty," Razo realized, looking to Cory for confirmation. "He wanted me to negotiate it because he didn't want the soldiers to know him."

"You said the amnesty was conditional only by whether we helped fight Cambyses," Vaska returned solidly, meeting his eyes. "Is there a loophole?"

"No… No, Robby and I both were sure, made them add in extra clauses…"

"It won't matter," Cory added after a moment. "They're not going to care."

"You picked a fine time to remember you had a mouth, why the pessimism?" Sagan asked, tone sarcastic.

The boy shrugged, unaffected by everyone's attention, seemingly. "He didn't learn everything he knew here."

Razo closed his eyes as the significance of that one sunk home. It wasn't like he hadn't known it, but when you spent long enough actively trying to _not_ think about things, it caught up with you. "He was on bad terms with the military before Cambyses took him. The amnesty won't apply to anything from _before_ here." He looked to Nick, who was starting to look guilty. "You feel like an ass yet?"

"Fuck off."

"He's probably not the only one here on not so hot terms with them either," Razo continued, turning to stare at each of them in turn. "And he's right; the lack of amnesty doesn't matter if they have no way of telling someone was here in the first place."

Vaska licked his lips. "We can showcase and run," he announced, meeting Razo's eyes. "Do some good, get our amnesty, and make ourselves scarce."

"Why?" Nick asked, confused.

"Because I'm grateful, but I don't exactly have any faith in the Regime."

"And the alternative?" the younger man snapped.

"I _trust_ him!" Vaska snapped back, gesturing back towards Robby's tent. "He gave a damn, and looked after total strangers with his own life! I don't know how many times I'd be dead by now otherwise!"

"The soldiers weren't so bad," Razo muttered after a moment.

"No, but they still get their hands tied," Vaska snapped. "They have _orders_ to follow, whatever they're like."

Nick honestly just looked exhausted. "And what do you think those things he tells you to do are?"

"Didn't you just _listen_ to him a minute ago?"

"Stop!" Razo snarled, holding his posture and gesturing just so, so the motion mimicked Robby enough that they all stepped back before they thought about it… then glared to follow it up. "We're all fucking tired, alright? Just… We have over two weeks before the strike starts, keep it to yourselves for a few more hours and we can talk when we're not all at the end of our damn rope. The important thing to remember is that we have _options_ now… and that we're not all on our own just yet, we still have to finish actually getting there."

Sagan rubbed his face with one hand. "Well finally there's something I don't have to think about to agree with."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany**

Hayden rocked back on his heels and cracked his back, looking the room over with satisfaction. It was largely bare, or at least seemed like it with everything pulled away from the walls, and the holes and bare fixtures here and there, but he couldn't help but be proud. _Finally done._

Well, he still needed to patch the holes and nail the baseboards back into place, then paint, but the hard part was done with, and Colonel Miller had only asked that he place all the security hardware and patch holes before letting others help him.

The fact that he had requested that he also break the drywall in alternate believable positions before patching hadn't been lost on him at all… and if getting a little creative with a sledgehammer meant he had to spend more time working on his own, he had an audio book to listen to. He liked his new superior's thought processing; he liked to be thorough, and while more than a few people had said he was overeager or prone to overkill, Hayden still thought it paid to be thorough. Colonel Miller was definitely paranoid, and while Hayden wouldn't claim the same of himself, there was something in him that delighted in the fact that he was working under someone who appreciated his ability to map labyrinths of contingency plans. The fact that in the end it meant he was doing everything even slightly within his power to protect the princess made him practically want to float.

Even he was willing to admit he'd probably gone a few steps past overkill in a few areas of the mansion and its grounds, but the colonel had justified the plans when he laid them out for him and even added a few things, so it was all good. Nothing like what had happened at Brussels would ever be able to happen _here_… and he could personally assure himself of that. And he got to do something other than just stare at screens all the time… and the colonel had said he'd start training him in other stuff once everyone was in residence. He was still mostly going to be doing surveillance stuff, but it was of a much smaller area that was far more tightly controlled and he had control of _all_ of it as a whole.

Which was why the colonel had left it up to him to design and construct and program this downright _masterpiece_ of safety independently, only reviewing what he had planned or tweaking or suggesting things here or there. The man had happily told him that he was teaching him by teaching him to teach himself… which made sense in terms of what he'd _meant_ even if he was pretty sure it was _actually_ gibberish. The colonel was actually really good at doing that pretty much all the time.

He hadn't worked out yet if he should call him Miller or Jake yet; he'd seen the others call him Jake without him minding, but… The colonel was arguably the best _and_ worst thing that had happened to his career, up to this point. He'd gotten into so much trouble he was worried he was going to get discharged after he let the princess and her retinue out of the base lockdown, after news of the riot came back, but the colonel had immediately taken him under wing as someone he wanted to train personally. That had effectively cut off the fires of hell before they could finish materializing, though his technical position had been on shaky grounds for a while…

But working directly with the princess, running all her home security and surveillance on a custom system _mostly created by him_ was a bit more than a promotion. He hadn't asked yet and wasn't going to for a while unless the colonel brought it up, but he was hardly a private anymore, with this level of trust. He'd never really thought he might be recognized and selected like he had, he'd known going into the military that he was probably just going to be one in the faceless masses, nothing special, but… When he'd pointed that out in a… well, kinda panicked ramble, if he was going to be honest, the colonel had said he was probably one of the most attentive to detail enlisted he'd ever met.

That had been embarrassing in a proud kind of way that he'd still tried to protest before the colonel had brought up his effectiveness otherwise – in sounding the alarm during the Brussels attack once he'd woken up from his concussion, and taking down the insurgent guard who had taken his position. Something about having had the piece of mind to keep him alive and thoroughly bound – though he was given a firm look and told to never use duct tape to bandage an ally unless it was an absolute emergency – and then still manage his post. He'd gone on for a while about doing what was right instead of just mindlessly following orders, and how he thought that level of judgment was vital in his line of work – though he wasn't sure if that was referencing to the colonel, himself, or both of them.

He was eager to find out, though.

Nodding to himself, he stood up and went to get the drywall. The sooner the patches dried, the sooner he could paint, and if he had enough time, he could paint more on his own before recruiting Catalonia's guys to help, and increase possible levels of subterfuge; paint over both some true and some false patches so if one of them tried to give up the information later, the locations would be half wrong. The colonel had said that he wasn't suspicious of them, really, but also that if you thought of a layer of simple, untraceable deception that didn't need constant maintenance, that the best policy was probably to just go with it.

…He _really_ liked working under Colonel Miller. This was downright _brilliant_, and he hadn't even needed help.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 5****th**** – Thursday – Near Tivoli, Italy**

Relena frowned, rubbing at her arm absently. "Mu Ackroyd?" Jake buried the frown that wanted to come up; she didn't seem to notice, but she fussed with the scar from the now old bullet wound when she was unsure of something. It wasn't as though it was an unusual habit to develop, but… he'd rather fucked up that night. It wasn't as though he thought he could have done any different or known better, or that it hadn't taught them both a few valuable lessons too, but it had still been his fuck-up, all the same.

And when David was feeling better, he was going to tear him a new one for this.

"Lieutenant Mu Ackroyd," he agreed, feeling overall resigned over the subject at this point. His friend had mentioned it practically in passing when he'd come to talk the other night, and it had already been irrevocably done anyway. And Mitchell had meant well, even if he was trying to drive him _mad_ anymore.

"Dave had her transferred to us for a Mandarin translator for us almost two weeks ago and thought I'd already seen her paperwork," he explained. "She was just on leave and the redundant notices got rerouted somewhere with how much we were moving about." _And Dave probably made sure that they would have been too late for me to negate it even if the system __**had**__ been working properly._

Relena's eyes sharpened as she looked up from the file she was reading to look at him. "You don't approve of her?"

He sighed. "I considered her at some point, and she's a friend of Dave's that he trusts implicitly. She's capable on all counts, but I _didn't_ select her, and only found out I had an extra on my team three days ago."

"So he's stomping all over your personal ground," she reiterated, a smile touching her lips as her eyes darkened a shade or two of gray.

He laughed out a sigh. "Yes." He'd admitted to having territorial issues when he was nine; it wasn't exactly worth denying over a decade later.

She grinned broadly back at him and flicked her eyes back to the paper in front of her, taking it in with a glance before moving to set it back down and consider her planner. "If they're friends, he probably pushed it because he trusts her enough to feel less guilty about not working with us anymore."

"Which is understandable," Jake allowed, "but I'm still allowed to be irritated as hell with him."

"Mm." The mumble was amused and affirmative as she glanced back over his way. "You'll have to give some of that up if you like her, though."

"That would be the downside of not being able to yell at him before I properly meet her," he agreed wryly. David _did_ know how he worked and flowed with the people around him, and wouldn't have made an addition that would upset that.

In theory, that was a good thing. In reality, that just made it all the _more_ aggravating.

And it filled their day from comfortable to nearly stifling, with _another_ new face to learn and watch… He had been hoping to get up the nerve to finally visit Des today, but hadn't been willing to mention as much when David had given him the official transfer papers. He probably would have put it off again in favor of some simple distraction, but… the possibility being removed made him almost want to rage about it.

_We'll come back through Tivoli soon enough,_ he reminded the less rational part of his mind. _There wasn't really enough actual time today anyway, I was just giving myself an illusion to cop out of._

_I should probably tell Relena to remind me come back to visit off the clock. She'll hold me to it._

As it was, he'd been avoiding direct contact with Des for the better part of three years already; another few weeks wouldn't hurt anything after this long already.

And Lena was moving towards him, coffee cup in hand. Her smile was quietly smug. "You didn't sleep well, did you? Drink."

If his sleep deprivation was that easy to recognize, Lena probably deserved to keep her habit of fingering her scar. "Thank-you."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 10****th**** – Tuesday – China**

"I should get to bed," Wufei muttered, standing up.

Kailì grinned at him, standing as well. "Too true. I need to go rip out half of what my wife packed for me out of the suitcase and replace it with identical clothes just to irritate her."

Yu Zi rolled her eyes, not bothering to look up from her book. "Mom made me pack three days ago."

"She didn't pack it _for_ you?" Kailì demanded of his daughter in mock disbelief. "Horrible woman."

"She said I was capable, and that if she didn't give you a template to work off of, you'd never work out what identical clothing to switch out what she selected for."

Yu Zi's tone was a sarcastic drawl, delivered with a completely straight face, which made Wufei grin. The Lao family was always… interesting. Once he'd learned to stop taking any insult at face value, they were very pleasant, and he enjoyed spending most of his evenings there.

He was going to miss them. "I'll show myself out." Kailì and Yu Zi needed what time they had for last minute packing – identical contents or not, Wufei had no idea and didn't _actually_ care – and sleeping if they could manage it, to start shifting time zones.

It occurred to Wufei that he should probably check to make sure Shui hadn't passed out on his desk again; it was painful just to watch his graceless roommate move the next day when he'd let him sleep all night like that. Shui wasn't the type to complain, but he wasn't subtle or in great control of his body either. But then, Wufei was willing to admit that very few individuals fit into his definition of having 'great control' over their bodies, and most of them were well versed in some type of martial art. If he was going to be spending most of his time with Shui in their tiny bachelor's flat, eating out of the cafeteria like he had before Kailì had attacked him and somehow turned it into a dinner invitation, he might as well make sure it started off well.

"Wufei!"

He stopped at the front door as Xiu Juan darted down the hall, long hair looking a little haphazard, a slip of paper in hand. She had been laying down with Lien, he'd thought… "Is something wrong?"

She held out the piece of paper in her usual imperious way, along with an envelope. "You need to get these things from the store for dinner on Thursday; I need to start the sauce tomorrow."

Wufei frowned. _Dinner?_ "You need me to go to the store."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, though she seemed amused. "I have three children, Wufei, I'm not going to stop making dinner because I'll only have the little ones for a few weeks. I suppose you can bring that sloth of a hermit you live with if it'll make you feel better about yourself."

…That was actually surprisingly nice and considerate, for Xiu Juan. He pulled up the flap and glanced into the envelope; money. Still a little surprised, he decided to take the bait and ask. "Why don't you go to the store?" _Does Kailì usually do this?_

The woman flicked her hair, looking annoyed. "I have no license to drive, and I have a four-year-old and no car seat even if I could. You would have a mother carry a toddler and enough food to feed a large family for a week at the same time?" She scowled. "What _use_ are you anyway?"

_At least she hasn't lost her charm,_ Wufei thought to himself wryly. _Kailì would be devastated if she had._ "Is there anything else you need me to do while they're gone?" he asked instead.

She smiled brilliantly at him, and actually reached out to pat his hand. "Good boy. Jia Li has kenpo lessons on Wednesday afternoons."

And now he knew why his coworker left early on Wednesdays. "I don't have a car."

She gave him a look like he was moronically stupid.

And he probably deserved it, knowing them as well as he did. "Right." Stepping around her, he strode quickly down the hall and into the doorway of the master bedroom where Kaili had what indeed looked like utterly identical sets of clothing piled all over the bed. Giving him a resigned look, he noted, "I need your car keys."

The older man cackled and grabbed them off the dresser before throwing them at him. "You're a good kid, Chang."

_You're a lousy mentor, Lao._ Aloud, he muttered, "Thank-you, I think."

Kailì laughed again. "Was there anything you wanted me to do or get for you in Europe?"

That… probably deserved some consideration. "Mm."

**_oOo_**

* * *

**_oOo_**

**_End Stranger Things_**

**_oOo_**

** …Okay, I had literally no time this semester, even after I dropped a class. I'm so glad to be done with that part of schooling… moving into the stuff I'll actually **_**use**_** now. **

** I held off on posting this until I had the next few chapters plotted out, and a decent chunk of the next actually written. It's my way of trying to apologize and make up for the massive delay between the last few, and trying to not do it again, getting this ball rolling. **

** Thoughts? You guys totally hate me, I think, the only person who reviewed the last chapter was new to the series… I kinda deserve it, considering the long update times, but yeah. Hope you enjoyed it, at any rate. **


	5. Breaking the Rules

_**Breaking the Rules**_

_Because only everything is actually meant to be broken, right?_

**_oOo_**

* * *

** Hey, sorry for the late timing. **

** Edit: I realized that my geography concerning the Sahara Desert events was utter shit, and had to go back and re-evaluate a few things and ended up changing a few details of exactly where everything is purely in terms of geography – there are corrections as far back as late in chapter 3, **_**Progression**_**. The area where Robby's group is is **_**one of**_** the **_**western-most**_** encampments, but not the furthest **_**west**_**, not east; I'm not entirely sure how I managed to mix that one up at all, really. Vaska tells Mitchell's scout, Sam, that there are eleven camps; in truth, I think there are eleven camps in their area – in Algeria and Libya, in the Sahara until you hit Egypt, not in the Sudan – as Mitchell notes at the end of chapter 2 **_**Scavenger Hunt**_** that Cambyses are all across various areas of northern Africa. Those are the only actual shifts shown before this point, as the details of the situation in the Sahara has been kept deliberately vague until recently, so everything should be fine from here on out.**

* * *

**June 11****th**** 198 – Wednesday – Frankfurt, Germany**

"Isn't this… officious enough for Mr. Peacecraft to make an appearance?" Sergeant Recine whispered uneasily.

"I invited him," Relena returned through a smile, not looking back to her bodyguard. "I think he's too officious now to be bothered with greeting a delegate from another continent."

Major Marakesh hummed out an amused sound from deep in her throat, though she maintained her stance perfectly.

"My thoughts exactly," Jake returned, amusement lacing his voice. "I'm waiting to see how long it is before he realizes he signed off on that manse as a legitimate satellite base to filter selected soldiers through."

"Really?"

"Don't talk where others might see until you've learned to still your lips," the colonel reprimanded. "And how else would I legally staff soldiers at a permanent civilian location?"

"…How long _has_ it been?" Lieutenant de Leon asked hesitantly. Relena couldn't see him directly, but seeing as Jake hadn't reprimanded him like he had Sergeant Krititz, she assumed he already knew how to speak subtly as well.

"Five weeks," Relena returned softly.

The Major let out another amused hum.

"You should really get that looked at," Lin told her cheerfully. "We need a functioning translator, and that requires talking."

Her responding hum to that was just as amused, though also considering.

"I think that means that you might have seniority for time on this job, but that you should remember she still outranks you," Jake explained cheerfully.

Mai's responding hum was just as amused as the previous ones.

"Time for gossip is over," the colonel added. "Be good and pretty for the Chinese ambassador."

Relena smiled brightly as she stepped forward, Jake and Mai closely behind her, Lin and the rest a little further back. She had dealt with the ambassador frequently enough when she had visited China just over a year ago; it was likely the reason he had been chosen to represent his country in the first place. His English was also excellent, and for the moment, Mailin was only with them as a formality. "Ambassador Kim, it's an honor to welcome you to Europe. I hope the flight was not too uncomfortable?"

"Miss Darlian-Peacecraft, it is I who am honored by your hospitality," the middle-aged man returned. "As for the flight, it went as well as these things go."

"Which I believe means to imply you would like to see your accommodations, yes?"

Jie Kim laughed. "I find that to be an accurate assumption, Princess. I am afraid my people are not adjusted to the time difference."

Relena smiled. "The hotel is not far, Ambassador, though I'm afraid your technicians will have to spend a little more time crowded together on the shuttles to get there. You are welcome to ride with my staff and I, however."

"That sounds agreeable," the man decided, bowing his head slightly. "It would…" He paused a moment as though looking for a word or phrase before settling on, "It would be a pleasure. I would like to greet my people as they arrive, however… We are all in the same hotel?"

Relena returned the small bow, though with a slight tilt to it so that it was reminiscent of a curtsey; Dorothy knew far too many variations of them, and had insisted on drilling at least a few into her head. Gesturing at Vaughn to get the car, she assured, "You will all be in the same hotel today, yes, though I am afraid that in most cities you might be spread across several. Transportation has already been arranged, as we agreed."

"Ah, good. There is a lobby we can greet them in?"

"Yes." Relena gestured towards Mai. "If at any time you feel unsure of your wording, Major Marakesh is a member of my staff and is fluent in Mandarin; she lived in Beijing for four years as a teenager. If she is unavailable, Lieutenant Ackroyd may also serve as a translator; she is not currently on duty, but I will be sure to introduce you. I have also arranged to have translators on-site at all surveying locations, as well as a few traveling with each team." She could see the limousine approaching now; it really had only been parked just out of sight.

"That is good." He looked towards the car for a moment before settling his gaze back on the princess. "Thank-you for coming to meet us in person. I understand you have much business to attend to."

"Ambassador, I am not the type to shirk my duties for convenience. Meeting your plane _is_ my business."

"Of course, forgive me…" He looked pleased when Mai opened the car door for him, though he paused while getting in to meet Relena's eyes and add, "It is good to be working with you again, Miss Darlian-Peacecraft."

She felt a genuine smile slip onto her face as she slid into the limo herself. Jie Kim had actually been one of the nicest, genuine members of the council she had negotiated with a year ago. "Thank-you; I could say the same of you."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 13****th**** 198 – Friday – Valencia, Spain**

"I'm sorry, but this…" Auda shook his head. "This is a cipher, with Arabic lettering so old that I'm not sure anyone uses it anymore. I thought perhaps I could help, but this…"

"Is something Quatre made so that only he could read it."

"Yes, definitely," the Maguanac agreed. "Honestly, I've never seen anything like it. You're sure Master Quatre wrote this?"

Odin shrugged. "He gave it to me like this, and I doubt he trusted anyone else to act as a translator."

"Ah, yes… that is true."

Hitting a wall, even if you were expecting it, didn't make it any less frustrating. Odin hadn't really staked any value on the Maguanacs being able to work through Quatre's code, but it had been worth a try. And it was probably worth something to know that it wasn't just half Arabic code – it was half ancient Arabic _gibberish_ and code.

"Do you know if he might have left something else with you that he programmed himself?" he asked instead. There was a possibility he could reverse engineer it; for all the steps of precaution the blonde strategist had taken before, it wouldn't be unlike him to have a back-up plan in place if someone knew where to find a Rosetta stone for his pieces of Zero.

The older man paused and seemed to consider that for a moment, before shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Heero, but I don't know. If anyone did, it would be Rashid, but he has been out of touch for nearly two months now. He was spotted in Cabat, and now there are wanted posters for him again and he had to hide." Auda's smile was rueful. "He's a very distinctive-looking man, unfortunately. He's had little luck finding transport by sea or air, and no one is willing to risk land transport through most of Algeria, Libya and Egypt, and the Sudan as well, due to the Cambyses."

He fingered his chin. "I wonder if the government is only finally getting around to taking care of them now because they've almost completely shut down the land trade routes – through Morocco and Yemen are the only reliable ways, and the raids into Morocco have gotten as deep into the country as Fès, I understand. The coastal and more central and south areas of Africa have been doing reasonably well in the climate change, but they've been suffering from northern raids and all else that has become the usual, now. " He leaned back in his chair. "We have families as far south as Congo, but while it's still reasonably warm on that continent, the changes themselves have been even more harsh on the people. Daily life is…" He shrugged again. "It's simply not what it used to be. Being unable to help our own people… it's nearly as bad under the Regime right now as it was when we were trapped away from them in space."

"For every reunion it seems like there's another separation," Odin noted, thinking back to Marlé… glancing back down at his phone to be sure he hadn't missed an alert from her. It was a depressing thought but also… one with inevitable acceptance. He lost Quatre and gained Marlé… Relena lost her father and gained a brother… There was some phrase about doors that meant the same thing that someone had told him once, but he couldn't remember the actual wording. Quatre had said once that the Maguanacs were the protectors of a large cultural group of people, that their pride was based on family and dedication; if they counted so many as family that they numbered in countries instead of bare handfuls, that was… a great deal of loss to contend with. There had only been twenty-seven pacifists he had wrongly executed at New Edwards so long ago, but the guilt had haunted him endlessly…

It was probably a good thing he had never let himself conceptualize the actual number of innocents who had died with that little girl and her puppy, before the retraining.

"True, but such a depressing point of view," Auda returned. "It's a blessing to reunite, and something to be sought out, but there are too many breaks in the world to hope to fill them all. That is what I told Master Quatre, at least." He smiled a little sadly. "It's what we convince ourselves to carry on with, and it serves a good purpose. Depression rarely gets you anywhere."

Odin blinked at him. "That's pragmatic."

Auda grinned broadly at him, winking. "I rather thought so myself."

…Odin wasn't sure if there was a proper response to that.

"In any case," Auda added as he stood, "You've heard your answers, and my time is running… close." He seemed to consider if he'd chosen the right word for a moment before shrugging it off as unimportant. "I have my own problems to solve, and I'm sure you could better use your time." His expression was very pointedly jovial, so Odin supposed he meant the words the same way. Almost flippantly, he added, "I'll send Lucrezia your regards."

That… sounded odd… but probably wasn't. "Thanks."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Specific location not determined**

_Well…_ The situation was rather bleak, if he wanted to be honest. _This got entirely out of hand._ He could understand, but he was beginning to honestly believe that some point on the way of his route to self-actualization and helping things turn out okay in the world, he'd instead become a saint of lost causes. Even compared to some of the utter shit he'd seen in Europe and Africa, this was… _cosmically_ bad.

…And that was really a very terrible pun, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking it all the same.

_…I can't handle this on my own._ And that, truly, Adam decided, was a first. Perhaps his failure to find and save Mariemaia was what made him able to admit the idea now, though he liked to think he was sane enough to simply do the math on this one. In comparison, however, he had to admit he'd done some rather _insane_ things both in and outside of his range of memory, for reasons he doubted he could really explain in either existence. His concepts concerning odds were undeniably very skewed, but he thought his abilities mostly matched them, at least from what he could tell…

…But he was literally going to need maybe… three pairs of hands. And the bodies attached to them. Well-armed, trained bodies. Ones that were reasonably capable of independent thought and taking care of themselves.

He didn't want to involve Treize, both on principle and because if their actions this far west were noticed, it could reveal the aristocrat's status among the living, which was a poor idea altogether. Also, he _really_ only needed two more people, but they did need to be _good_, and he was rather sure Treize didn't trust him well enough to just give him that on short notice.

…Chang Xutao owed him a favor or three, and Sally was likely within the realm of convincible, if what he remembered from _Peacemillion_ or Chang Wufei's personality meant anything.

…All the same this was… going to be complicated.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 17****th**** 198 – Tuesday – Munich, Germany**

"Oooh," Relena breathed, stepping out of the car and into the little courtyard around the back of the house. The driveway past the gate was situated so that the majority of it was hidden entirely from the street, and she could see the red brick of the tall wall edging the outer rim of the property, though little of the open grounds themselves, with the inner wall fencing it off from the front. It was huge, and really _did_ make Dorothy's flat in the city proper look like a townhouse.

In her defense, roughly twenty people would be living out of hers.

"There are still a few cosmetic things to flesh out," Jake noted as he stepped out himself. "But all the functional changes are done, some minor furniture withstanding."

She frowned. "Furniture?"

"Some rats and other things had moved in after it was left unoccupied. I told Captain Derusha to sort through what was already here and donate anything that looked run-down, then look to find decent alternatives. I'm not sure how far he's gotten on the latter part, though."

Relena nodded thoughtfully, heading for the door. That only made sense. It was likely enough that she might hold meetings here, or at least guests on occasion, and appearances had to be maintained, at least up to a point. She knew Jake had a good eye and taste; hopefully the man he'd set to mostly be in charge of her new residence did as well, and she didn't end up with something so gaudy she was embarrassed to be seen near it.

Jake grinned as he followed her, chuckling softly. "Though there _was_ some sort of couch thing that I just had sent over to Dorothy's."

"A couch thing, lovely," she muttered under her breath.

"Brightly gilded with sky blue upholstery and gold tassels. And cherubs carved into the frame."

_…_ "Thank-you." Dorothy was probably thrilled, too.

He snickered. "You're welcome." He took two fast steps to get in front of her and pull the door open. "I'll give you a tour, then."

The entryway area was tiled in a pale stone, and was open and well-lit… which almost had her let out a sigh of relief, despite it not being a surprise. She had gotten used to her interior rooms in Brussels as a matter of security, but she had _missed_ windows… and despite having seen the building on the drive up, she hadn't actively considered having them again. _Though, in terms of security…_ She resisted the urge to go tap one; knowing Jake's paranoia level, if all the 'functional changes' were complete, there was no reason to bother wondering if they were regular glass or something stronger.

She judged that the furniture was likely from whoever had left the estate uninhabited for so long, and was nice and proper and bland enough while still being tasteful for the room to suit its purpose. The walls were all bare, with a fresh coat of pale cream paint on the walls, if the stray piece of blue tape stuck against the crown moulding was any indication. "Anything that someone might really sit on I want to be sure is actually comfortable," she decided after a moment. Jake had been standing back, waiting for her to finish taking it all in. "That was something I remember always hating about my mother's sitting room; it was pretty, but not functional enough to be welcoming."

"Makes sense."

"Was there art already here?"

"No; they took just about everything except this big sunflower one that's in the back kitchen now."

That was just as well. She would get to decide on her own impressions, at least roughly; she wasn't going to pick and choose like a curator, just suggest or veto. "Back kitchen?" That implied that there was more than one… which, for a house this size made some sense, really.

Jake smiled, and gestured. "We'll get there; this way first."

They passed what was obviously a surveillance room, with a sturdier door than you generally saw indoors, which had several stations for people to watch the screens plastered everywhere and still enough space in the center for a relatively large card table. _If there's a threat outside, there's room in here to plan._ The walls were painted a fairly vivid but cool tone of green, and she noticed that there seemed to be plenty of cameras inside the house as well, and more screens still that were kept dark. Someone smiled and waved to her from his desk, and she saw footage of one of the garage doors sliding shut before she followed Jake further down the hall to… a large room that she would imagine had been a formal dining room, but was entirely bare. Obviously, it hadn't been decided what this room would be yet, and she was waiting for her friend to ask her opinion on it somehow before he opened the closet door, turned, and… opened something.

Caught in the old spy manor moment of it all, she dashed after him to find him practically bouncing down a narrow staircase… into a very brightly lit cavernous space. "Oh _wow_."

He laughed and kept going down; surprisingly, it didn't really echo much. "_This_ was what really sold me on the place; the real estate agent didn't even realize it was here, and I found the original blueprints – it's not on them either. It's legal enough to have done it, but I was worried at first because it seemed so illegitimate in there being no _record_ of it, but not only is all the plumbing and electrical and such to code and above," at this he gestured at the ceiling, which seemed flat to her, "but it's thoroughly ventilated, soundproofed, and definitely qualifies as a bomb shelter." He turned back to her and grinned broadly as they reached the floor. "It stretches under almost the entirely of the grounds; we shouldn't try to plant anything beyond the briars on the walls. Those are more of a vine plant than anything, and the perimeter of this stops a ways before the outer walls, but I'm not sure how many feet of soil is actually on the grounds."

There just wasn't much to be said to that… at least, beyond it being perfectly marvelous. There was a back-up system of the surveillance, though it was all dark, and various rooms Jake only gestured to as being storage for this or that, or a bathroom, a few bedrooms…. He gestured towards what seemed to be an incomplete shooting range that was to be enclosed and ventilated before taking her up a _different_ entrance back into the house proper. That room was as bare as the previous entrance, and he admitted that he hadn't entirely decided how he wanted to go about setting up the security of the entrances. Apparently, he'd fought to get them all open and serviceable, and they probably weren't all of bomb shelter quality anymore, and he was still debating how restricted he wanted to keep the area altogether.

She was beginning to feel overwhelmed, and they hadn't even gotten through much of the first floor.

There were the polite sort of half bath bathrooms around the obviously public areas of the downstairs, but that was only one wing; there was a kitchen at both ends of the property, the smaller one bright and cheerful in yellows and white, and the larger was closer to the surveillance room and more… creatively majestic, with dark wood cabinets and black stone counters, walls painted a deep, bright violet.

She found herself appreciating the personality of whoever had chosen all the colors; it gave the place more character than she would imagine most estates like this generally had.

Besides the grounds, and the way the driveway circled into a sort of enclave or courtyard to start with, the house itself wrapped around a large courtyard away from the more neutral public entry, though a door in the purple kitchen opened to it, and the corner of windows by the sink showed it. It too, was largely bare, at this point. What was obviously a large formal guest suite was cattycorner to the kitchen on the far side of the courtyard, closer to the driveway, done in deep blues and crèmes and thick carpet, bed made with too many pillows and the bathroom stocked with the basics. Closer to the yellow kitchen were more honestly normal bedrooms and full bathrooms and a large laundry room… with a chute coming down from the upper floors like a hotel might have. What she was now starting to dub in her mind as the 'polite' part of the house, the neutral sort of entry area, had had more than one den or living room to socialize or watch movies in, for differing sizes of crowds; the back of the house had what could damn well qualify as a small _theater_ with tiered levels crowded with overstuffed chairs and couches with coffee tables. It was again painted in dramatic colors, a very deep ocean blue this time, with grey and black and dark carpeting.

Relena decided then that she didn't have a mansion, even if Dorothy _had_ something that could possibly fit the definition of 'townhouse'. She had a _compound_. A very personalized, comfortable, laid-back and elegant _compound_. It was still in too urban of an area to count as an estate, but she was starting to suspect she could house far more than twenty and still do it quite comfortably.

The stairway they took to the second floor didn't connect to the third, but it was probably the fourth set of stairs she had seen, and Jake had mentioned at least one other set with a vague gesture. He had his more subtle cat with the canary expression, and she could tell that not only was he exceedingly proud of himself, but enjoying her discovery of what he'd done. Relena delayed pointing out the inevitable until they had passed through a practical labyrinth of bedrooms, bathrooms, living rooms, bare rooms, and two very small kitchen areas.

"We're going to need a maid." Everyone could be responsible for their own laundry and upkeep of their rooms, and there was some degree of turns that could be taken in cleaning the public areas, but this was far more maintenance than Jake's waxing and waning annoyance with Sergeant Krititz. And it needed to be kept 'important guest' clean in a lot of areas, not 'soldier at home' clean. Also, she knew that she and Jake, at least, often were not going to have the time for any of that at all, when they were even _there_. When they weren't, with most of the guard out with them, everything here would be collecting dust to look tacky with.

He grimaced, nodding. "I'm still debating how to go about it, but agreed." They had agreed that they didn't want to take any housekeeping staff with them when they left Brussels due to connections and possible security issues, and hiring staff from a field where security checks were unheard of was almost a worse nightmare. Jake had carefully handpicked everyone they were bringing to Munich, and though she hadn't specifically requested it, had been careful to choose only those who were either carefully neutral of their preferences between the Peacecraft siblings, or leaning towards Relena without being too obvious or pushy about it. She didn't want to have a house divided, as it were, but she didn't want powder kegs to spark, or look like she was drawing lines; her goal was independence, not separation.

She debated asking him how Dorothy was arranging the upkeep of her 'townhouse', then decided it didn't matter; if the concept had passed his scrutiny for security, he would have already brought it up. Dorothy was going to have far fewer sensitive documents in her residence, and despite her wealth, was a poor target. History had taught her that it only took one untrustworthy person to sabotage privacy, or assassinate an entire board meeting with a bomb. In Brussels, she hadn't had to worry about her security, as the lengths it would take simply to reach her _building_ had been extensive, exclusive, and very well maintained. Here, they had to build their own infrastructure from the ground up, and it was all on their own heads to make an effectively safe system. A maid would inevitably learn all the secrets and weaknesses of her home as a matter of course; the trust level implied was… terrifying. There were things you could do with a massive amount of manpower and a corporation outlook that simply weren't feasible on the scale they wanted, here.

By the time they reached her suite, it was evident that the virtual labyrinth surrounding it was intentional. Obviously, anyone living there – including the maid – would find no trouble with it, and it was cool in its own way, but the entire layout was counterintuitive and without any clear pattern; a stranger would find themselves quite lost in short order. The colors were less vivid, keeping with the confusion and refusing basic landmarks, but still unusual, in shades ranging from a pale teal on most walls, but venturing into darker ranges of teal, aqua, blue, gray, and a few other colors to the more specific rooms. Most of the bedrooms had dark carpet, and the bathrooms tile, but elsewhere was all dark wood in the same mahogany or stained walnut as the purple kitchen's cabinets. The doors and their frames stood out in an almost startlingly elegant way from the color in the same dark wood relief.

"How many walls did you knock down and rebuild?" she asked out of curiosity. She had found and counted at least five stairways, and seen one set of cast iron railings that _didn't_ stop on the second floor.

"I didn't keep track. I remember that it wasn't as many as I thought it might take, though." He grinned. "I haven't been away from you _nearly_ enough to have orchestrated this in person, Lena, come on."

That was a valid point. Going into her – and she supposed Jake's, too, really – suite of rooms, she was momentarily surprised at how small the antechamber was. There was plastic of the draping over the wood floor that made odd noises under her shoes; these walls had apparently been primed, but not yet painted, and still stood bare. There was enough room for maybe two couches, so long as they weren't too large, accompanying tables for papers or drinks, but it was obviously not somewhere that they would spend much time in.

"I took liberties with the colors in the bedding area based on something I picked up from you, but I thought with how much flavor Mai had added to the house otherwise, you might like a few rooms to play with yourself." He shook his head. "She showed me a few examples of what she wanted to try when I mentioned it needed to be done, but I think she rather outdid herself."

"I'm impressed," Relena agreed, finding herself delighted at the idea, despite how incredibly frivolous it seemed, before focusing on the far door. "You took liberties? And how many proxies did you use to get all this done?"

He smirked and gestured for her to go first. "Three, including Mai, but excluding David supervising a thing or two; we used a downright _mess_ of people to get the more drastic work done without letting anyone get intimate with the layout or all the details, then I let Polanski have the run of the place to do all sorts of things for weeks on end before I let him bring in others to do finishing touches. Honestly, we only hired people in for the wall moving on this floor and the range downstairs… that kid's got creative drive and work ethic coming out his ears."

She grinned. "Isn't he the one with the duct tape that helped us sneak out to Amsterdam?"

"Yes; he'd helped us sneak _in_ to Brussels without being noticed much the night of the attack too, so technically I knew him before he got mildly infamous for his heroics in concussed duct taping skill. After Amsterdam, though, I think your brother wanted to just leave him to rot, despite how much promise he has. Kid's _thorough_." He gestured again. "Aren't you going to look?"

"I was waiting for you to finish your thought." From the way he'd phrased it, he expected the next room to wow her, and she figured she wouldn't cut him off. That said, though, she threw it open and, in spite of herself, gasped.

It looked… like water. The ceiling was the clear soft blue of the sky in Sanc and the walls were in all the ocean tones and uneven texture and shifting in shade of the sea she could see from the cliffs on her balcony before… the pure, pristine white of the baseboards and crown moulding just completed the effect. It looked like her room in Sanc had after she'd spruced it up, only the balcony was missing, but there was a window seat looking into the courtyard instead… and that was the four-poster bed and sheers she had fallen in love with in her time as a princess in the one place that had been truly _hers_ and home…

She fought the urge to cry; he'd probably understand, he had obviously talked to Dorothy and _gotten_ her bedroom furniture for her, but just in that moment… _No one_ did that kind of thing, no one had _ever_ gone to that kind of length for her just to try to give her a little sense of peace or comfort, even her parents. She'd never thought it actually mattered, and had convinced herself she didn't care, but this… the rush of emotion flooding into her was overwhelming. The amount of thought and care he'd obviously put into this was just… "It's beautiful," she breathed. Turning in a full circle, just drinking it in, she met his eyes. "Thank-you… It's just… _perfect_."

Her friend looked a little sheepish. "Good. Seems like I nailed it a bit better than I was even aiming for, but I'm glad you like it. Honestly, it was more a wild guess than anything, but when Lin brought up you being so happy to be by the ocean again, Dorothy remembered you running your hand over your dressing table while talking to her with the balcony doors thrown open, and…" He shrugged. "We're landlocked here, so I thought I'd try to compensate a little."

That was the wonderful thing about Jake… when it came to his friends, he pulled out all the stops, just because he wanted to and could. He noticed things most people missed, and went out of his way to make you comfortable and happy with little things that made all the difference. It would have been far easier to simply supply the room with something elegant, but he'd given her back her mother's dressing table and vanity that was inlaid with mother-of-pearl flowers on the drawers and corners…

It… meant so much more than she could possibly say aloud. She hadn't even known she had missed and wanted it back so badly, but he _had_, and he'd done it for her just because he could.

"It's wonderful, Jake, thank-you." She knew he could read how much she meant it in her voice and body language. Wiping at her eyes briefly, she focused on the bookcase in the corner by the door that looked like another murphy bed, currently up in the wall instead of out, and a dresser and walk-in closet. A set of shoji screens similar to the ones he kept for cordoning off his personal area in Brussels leaned against the wall. There were a few pieces of overstuffed furniture as well, and what at a glance was a decent bathing room set-up, though smaller than most of the full bathrooms they had come across so far… to the point of being perfunctory. She shrugged – a bathroom was really only there for doing the necessities, really – and went to run her hands over the vanity for the first time in almost three years. She had very little of her birth parents, and this had always seemed so intimate and personal, somehow. Her mother had sat at this table every morning for years… it meant something for her to do the same.

"Lena? There's really not too much left…"

"Ah, of course," she muttered, realizing she had been in something of a haze. Cataloguing everything in the room, she realized that she had identified Jake's closet, but didn't see one for herself. "Where-"

"That way," he gestured, striding ahead of her to a door that was so perfectly painted into the ocean whirls and swoops that she'd missed it entirely. "It's a little camouflaged, actually, which wasn't my intention, for the record. It's easy enough to change if it gets annoying, though; it would look good white."

"Probably," she agreed, opening the door… and blinking at the spiral staircase in the center of the large closet. "Oh just give it up and smile like the cat with the canary you are."

He laughed delightedly. "There's only three floors, right? This is the last… two things, I promise."

She giggled disbelievingly at that, turn to _look_ at him… before grinning and dashing up the stairs.

His laugh followed her up as he took them at a more reasonable pace, and started explaining as she looked all around. "You can't really blame me for this one, it was all set up like this to start with."

Relena laughed outright, looking around in amazement. "Well they certainly had their priorities straight, then. Is that a _sauna_?"

Everything seemed like it was made of frosted glass… including the ceiling, and sizable parts of the walls. Some parts were wood or metal or ceramic, obviously but… _Wow._ There was a giant tub, and someone had left the doors open on the sauna and massive shower stall, and a smaller shower stall, which confused her for a moment, until she realized that the _ceiling_ of it was the showerhead, with one area looking like it was heavier 'rain' than the rest. The stairway had come up on a sort of upraised platform, presumably so water wouldn't drop down into the room below… and there were a few drains on the floor for good measure. "Did they move out because they couldn't afford the water bill?" she asked half seriously. There were _six_ sinks and plenty of counter space, and maple cabinets, and some wooden stalls in the corner… She frowned and strode over to them.

"Possible, but I doubt it," Jake decided, coming up into the room himself, and moving one foot to slide a hatch over the opening in the floor, then bending down to seal some kind of heavier latch she hadn't noticed with weathering around the edges that closed with a solid sound. "There's a well on premises."

The princess stopped at that, and turned to give him another disbelieving look. "_Where_ did they put a well?"

He gave in and started snickering. "Below the bomb shelter?"

Relena sighed and closed her eyes a moment, unable to actually consider how having their own water source was probably also a good thing anyhow. She remembered one of the girls in Sanc mentioning her family estates all having wells simply as a matter of fact… A moment later she collected herself and went to consider a set of wooden stalls with frosted glass panels, and frowned at the deadbolts – one on the outside, and one on the inside – before blinking down at the raised teak floor panel for all of two seconds before she gasped and reached down to snatch it up. A deep, wide-mouthed vertical copper tub glistened up at her. "An onsen!" She hadn't seen a good onsen since she'd left Japan, and the fact that it was metal meant she wouldn't have to wash completely before getting in… she looked up, and saw shower fixtures and a shelf, and a space to stand in or put the platform off to one side, so you should shower _then_ soak, and the stall was small enough that it would steam up. There was a drain to the side, and the platform looked like it sealed, so you could really go back and forth, like if she wanted to leave a mask in her hair while she soaked…

Technically, it didn't matter, with how deep that massive tub in the main was, but this was another thing she realized she'd expected to never see again.

"I suppose it was too much to hope that you'd think it was weird and leave it all to me," Jake noted dryly, coming up and gesturing at the locks. "I'm still using it, though; I added the locks for gender segregation problems, as it were."

_…Yeah. If Dorothy managed to open the door on Jake in the tub, he might __**actually**__ try to kill her._ The sad thing was, he'd probably done the locks with _exactly_ that thought in mind; he was putting up precautions to prevent him from murdering his friends.

_Oh no._ "Dorothy's going to try to move in."

He gestured towards a door down the hall. "There's rooms for her set up that way." Reaching past her, he put the platform back, and she moved out of the way so he could do it properly and close the door. "I'm more than thrilled with it all, don't get me wrong, but I'm still a little confused about this room," the soldier admitted. "I could call most of it variety and decadence, but there are _seven sinks_."

_I must have missed one,_ Relena thought idly as she tried to come up with a possible solution. "Well… this house is old enough – and certainly _big_ enough – to have been a noble family home, right?"

He nodded. "So a group bathroom, kind of thing?" He still looked a little confused by the idea.

Relena laughed as she realized why. "Women versus men, Jake, this place looks like it might have been a place to be _social_ in." Shaking her head and walking down the hall in the opposite direction of where he'd said rooms for Dorothy where, she asked, "What was the family name? Why did they leave?"

"As far as I can tell, the majority of them died or married off until they just couldn't upkeep it and not have it as a total waste," Jake explained. "They couldn't afford it anymore."

"Maybe a lot of daughters, then?" she suggested, considering the _wall_ of cabinets. "It wouldn't have to be all daughters, if they were in a group home… It came up in class once when we were discussing inheritance and the fading nobility, that Olivia Dontelaine's family used to be one of the main power syndicates through Europe, but her great grandmother's generation had five daughters and no sons, so they started trying to return full heir rights to duchesses. It didn't really hold, though, and that generation of sisters had nearly all daughters too, and a few cases of divorce after children… What?" The expression on his face was highly amused, and she laughed. "This was a Dontelaine house?" Laughing more, she shook her head and continued on out. "I'll have to keep in mind that her family at least at one point was paranoid enough to make _you_ proud. Maybe I ought to get ahold of Olivia, it's been a while, and- Oh!"

It was a long gallery that looked like it half wrapped around the house, overlooking the grounds… all of glass panels. The _ceiling_ was all the same clear paneling so she could see the storm clouds perfectly, and the style was minimalistic with a few couches here or there, and tables, and… Lin standing over by one of the longer tables, smirking, with her bag for the day…

It was set up as her _office_. Lounge too, but… "Oh my God." _No wonder the antechamber was so small._ "How many staircases come up here?" she asked breathlessly.

"Three, if you include the bathroom one; Dorothy would have to come through the bathroom to get in without going up and down the stairs a bit," Jake explained smoothly. "There _is_ a staircase on her side though, obviously." He stepped forward, gesturing in the two directions that could serve as entrances. "That one leads straight down to the main pantry." The idea obviously amused him greatly, by his voice. "Which you didn't see, but is between the larger kitchen and surveillance. The other has a foyer, but beyond that is a staircase that actually accesses all three floors." Motioning to another area, he added, "There's a sort of… escape dumb waiter to the basement over there, and there are a few on other floors I skipped over, which I'm still working out the details for security on." He smirked. "And since you've been so kind about not asking, I'll note that the framework for this room is weaker than the glass panels; I've seen this stuff take a hit from a beam saber and only dent." Smirk widening into a grin, he added, "You might really want to look into that Olivia friend of yours. I understand it was the Dontelaines that developed the stuff in the first place in preparation for the space age, but I didn't change _anything_ structural on this floor; they had already made it like this."

He was obviously incredibly pleased by this. "Maybe you should marry in," she suggested.

The blonde man rolled his eyes as Lincoln cackled. Relena smiled as he finished explaining a few technical details; apparently he also had a surveillance set-up set in a corner up here she had yet to see, and security wasn't fully set up yet, which was part of why they had managed to move through the house so easily. None of the cameras above the first floor had microphones… The floor up here were the same deep wood as in most of the house, but despite the open space, her steps didn't really echo… though she jumped when they practically _trilled_ underneath her like the spooky house horror music when she got too close to the doors. Lin – in complete support of her, she was sure – started cackling again.

"You missed that in your little entrance room downstairs," Jake noted idly. "I think the plastic muffled it, or something; all the approaches are nightingale floors."

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Wonderful, if we have intruders, they'll have to go on the walls all ninja-style to surprise you."

"Walking on the walls doesn't work so well when they're demagnetized steel."

_…I really am going to have to look up the Dontelaine histories again, aren't I?_ "Point." She hadn't looked closely enough at the surface texture of the walls either, apparently. "So what else have you glossed over?"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 18****th**** 198 – Wednesday – Sahara Desert**

Roshan frowned as the light shifted, and put down his sliver of mirror to see who the fuck thought it was important enough to interrupt his morning rituals that would literally only take another three minutes. They _knew_ better than that, the little fuckers, so he didn't bother wiping the shaving cream off his face before turning, ready to tear the man to pieces… to see Robby was standing just inside the entrance to his tent. "What are _you_ doing here?" Robby was chaotic psychosis embodied, everyone had orders to never let him _near_ him unless Roshan had asked specifically-

"Once," the blonde muttered after a moment, "I would have made an offer, and said I was sorry."

_What the fuck?_ He hurriedly used a towel to wipe his face and stood. The crazy shit was a loose cannon; staying sitting would have been a mistake. Roshan narrowed his eyes at him instead. "What do you want?" It was entirely possible that Robby had simply killed everyone who had tried to keep him from entering his tent… or somehow persuaded them to see things his way.

"Oh, so many things," Robby dismissed, moving towards him slowly, his expression blank… his almost boneless grace gone. His eyes seemed flat, and that made the panic start to swell in his gut faster as he realized he had never seen his subordinate look so _sane_ as he did right now.

This was the man he'd feared existed, not the one he knew and held at bay.

He was taking the camp as his own.

"The other encampments won't let you get away with usurping me," he snarled.

"If I had thought they would, I might have done this months ago," Robby noted tonelessly, stopping a yard away. He flicked out the blade he had already had in hand and shifted into a defensive stance before reaching with his left to draw the saber he kept strapped across his lower back. "You've only ever considered the possibilities that you can think of on your own, Roshan; always predictable, never any creativity. I've been grateful for that, but I won't regret cutting you down this morning. A different solution has presented itself, and one of the highlights was entering this very moment. For all the things you've done, knowingly and with pleasure, your chokehold of control… No one will mourn you."

He was talking nonsense again. "You're insane," he hissed, knowing that without any of his own weapons at hand, with Robby, he was too slow to even attempt to defend himself; the man was too blindingly fast.

The blonde chuckled darkly. "If only it were really that simple."

He moved.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 19****th**** 198 – Thursday – Prague, Czech Republic**

It was starting today.

Xutao supposed the only prevailing emotion he had at the moment was relief. He'd been investigating what he could of the Cambyses a little over a year ago before his cover had been blown and he'd gotten shot, which led to his long spiral of hide-and-seek with… well, _enigmatic_ was the most polite word he could ascribe to his self-assigned traveling companion. Oddly, it hadn't actually been any of the Cambyses group that had injured him, considering how volatile and dangerous that den of vipers had been; it had been the _local police_ who had probably been looking for the same thing as him.

If there was anything he'd learned since leaving home, it was that no one in uniform appreciated any aid from someone less inclined to join their ranks.

Cambyses, though… The general had told him to go take some personal time, probably to spurn Hilde into higher levels of determination – _As if she needs any more of __**that**_ – but it probably also had to do with how he'd broken down while giving his report on the group the military was now starting its takedown of. He didn't really feel anything particular about it today, to be honest; he'd more or less numbed himself to the memories all over again the moment the military had started to actively contemplate its destruction weeks ago.

…But he wasn't going to turn down personal time that he could lord over Hilde the next time she got obnoxious. It wasn't until he had arrived in the sims room and saw that his usual chair was taken that he remembered that 'personal time' was specifically that not spent training, and even if that's what he had always done with his time since he was a small child, that wasn't going to be the case here.

Sally Po had given him a very seriously-spoken lecture about it early on after finding and accepting him into her then motley crew, before noting that she _would_ throw a book at him, if need be.

He had been holding out hope at some point after leaving home that he would come across women who _weren't_ as overbearing and ready to embarrass him as his mother and aunts. Instead, he'd found a white Chinese woman who acted frighteningly like his own mother with the exception that she had _guns_ to back it, a cool-headed commander who thought nothing of allowing his partner attempt to set him on fire while he slept – "_You obviously weren't trying very hard to keep her out, Chang; consider that."_ – and a damn hellcat for a partner that made his childhood neighbor friend, Long Meilan, look sweet and demure in comparison.

He'd honestly felt sorry for Wufei when the Long line had deemed him acceptable to take up the prestige and honor of being made family as husband to their fiery heiress. There had been talk of how they expected _many_ heirs in a timely manner, even. To that statement, Wufei had had the grace to do nothing but stare dully at the representative come with the announcement until the man left.

…Sometimes he wondered what _had_ happened to Wufei. He'd apparently come across both Po and Noin multiple times, and just as apparently made his escape some time ago without bothering to look back. Even as far as the Regime had managed to track any of the pilots, Wufei had gone completely off the map with no sign of life since the middle of the battle at _Libra_. Despite that, no one had seriously considered that he might be dead… and even if he was, it wasn't as though they would treat the subject of him any differently. Sally Po had pointed out to him that Wufei actually had a long-standing history of doing exactly this, and that he wasn't exactly what she would call reliable even if he was around… And Xutao could only agree. Even when they were kids, Wufei had pointedly refused to consistently follow anyone's schedule but his own; it just mostly worked out that he agreed with their teachers most of the time.

…Though there had been that one philosophy class that he had walked out of on the second day and pointedly skipped for the rest of the block. Xutao had lived in fear for months that the man was going to come tear down their dorm room door looking for his roommate; Wufei had stopped talking to him or even acknowledging that he existed until he stopped trying to reference the incident. And as far as Xu could tell, Wufei hadn't ever faced any consequences for it.

…The majority of the Cambyses members were people kidnapped or taken hostage, though, the missing people who were never found because there were too little traces… and maybe that was why Noin had told him to take some time. It was hardly the first time the thought occurred to him, but he hoped more than anything that Wufei _wasn't_ in the Sahara. He really hoped the jackass was sequestered off in some cramped room with books and papers piled everywhere so they were almost falling, feet on his desk, nose in a book, snarling at his poor roommate over any noise he made.

He didn't really want to sit and just think anymore, though. Sitting back up from his bed, he reached under it for his laptop, seriously considering just surfing aimlessly like he hadn't had reason to for _years_… at least, once he'd checked everything he ought to… work wasn't something to be left idle, personal time or not, really… and stopped.

In one of his throwaway sort of email addresses, there was a message titled,

_~oOo~~oOo~_

**I don't like chances, they're iffy**

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_No…_ He'd known someone who said that, which had to be one of the more stupid, roundabout phrases he had ever heard someone over the age of ten say. Hurriedly, he clicked it open, half hoping to get some kind of spam about winning a lottery in some obscure part of the world-

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_ 806-51-238-669-3592-8_

_ Call me, secure line. _

_ Adam_

_~oOo~~oOo~_

It was a universal number, probably to a disposable phone.

So much for free time.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**The Sahara Desert – Algerian west Sahara, Encampment Roshan**

"Charel, what the hell is this?"

"Smoke," the blonde man returned flatly, not shifting from his vigil of the pyre. "I should think that much obvious."

Mitchell fought the urge to growl back his own response. "_Why_ are you doing something that will draw more attention? This was _not_ the plan!"

The Frenchman finally turned to meet his eyes; they were just as flat as his voice, as somber as the forced neutrality in his face. "I'm not entirely sure what started it; either someone talked in their sleep or got the balls to try to save an old cage friend that stayed twisted. Whichever it was, it got violent, and even worse, it got _loud_." His eyes flicked towards his shoulder, but he seemed to stop himself from turning around to stare at the fire again. "These men were ours… Roshan's are where they fell." His eyes gained a stubborn glint. "I will _not_ mix their ashes with ours."

Mitchell ran a hand down his face, eyes shut. He didn't fully blame the man, his reasoning was sound, but… _Shit._ "How much is this going to change the nearby encampment's reactions and preparations?" They were just going to have to salvage it somehow. As for the dead… "Do you know the enough about the dead for me to inform their families?"

That seemed to soften Razo's mask somewhat. Nodding, he admitted, "Robby kept a list; after our first casualty where we didn't know the true name of the dead, we… didn't want it to happen again. All of us came to be in Robby's squadron because he could see that we wanted out of here, back to the real world… Everything he did was to try to make it so we could go back home someday." He met Mitchell's gaze solidly for a moment before he did a half turn and his gaze slid back to the pyre. "A lot of us got this far by using nicknames and pretending we were someone else… He had the only copy of the list so no one could touch your real name, if that was how we managed."

The past tense was very obvious, as was the deference. "You weren't the squad leader." It had seemed as though he obviously was, before, but if he wasn't in power…

"Not even his second, or one of his captains; I wasn't in charge of keeping anyone alive but myself. I was his friend… His people skills could use some work – he got used to giving out orders and expecting us to obey or die because of what he saw and was warning us of. He trusted me to handle this better than he would have."

Staring at the smoke again, he seemed to remember how off topic they had gotten. "This much smoke won't alert anyone; funeral pyres are common. No one will think twice about it until it's been a few days without news of what the incident was. Or at least," and he grimaced at this, "that is true so long as we caught everyone who tried to run. The captains think they did, but we haven't survived this long to make assumptions now."

The colonel sighed as some of the tightness eased out of his chest; the greater their element of surprise, the better chances for fewer casualties. It had been deemed too unethical to simply bomb the encampments in the Sahara, and he had agreed, but he couldn't help but wonder how many good men and women that he brought with him would go home in body bags. As it was, whatever had happened here had relieved him of at least one battle's casualty numbers without risking the entire operation.

"We didn't have a way to dispose of Roshan's dead without raising suspicion, and it was only over with maybe ten hours ago, when we knew you were coming. If the bodies aren't disposed of, it might be difficult for people to live here again any time soon."

"We brought people for that too," Mitchell assured him, and was gratified as he saw Razo Charel relax a little more. "Do you have Robby's list?"

Charel nodded. "Cory has it." Turning his back on the fire once more, he started to walk back in the direction of the main of their encampment. "I'll take you to him."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**German Countryside Road**

"Huh. Goats."

Jake snickered, probably remembering all his old cadet's goat insults, and Relena rolled her eyes, offering Mu a smile. "Goats," she agreed, "and sheep. I've really always been a fan of mutton, personally. If the cattle industry's crash hadn't been so economically devastating, I'd be delighted for the change in our diets." She winked. "Secretly, I'm still enjoying it, but I'm hardly one of the starving, am I?"

This was the third actual contact they were making with the individual sites where the heat amplifiers were being inspected, and the first time they had brought Mu with them as a translator instead of Mai; they had opted to leave the Australian major in Munich to oversee the final touches on the house, and to make sure the lieutenant that Jake hadn't initially planned on hiring didn't feel like a third… eleventh… wheel.

Really, once she'd taken a moment to actually talk to and spend some time with the American woman, she rather liked her. She didn't seem to have Mailin's pure attitude and flair, but the princess was finding that to be on the verge of overwhelming sometimes in any case. Mu was more sedate, but considering the overall circus her entourage had the tendency to become in the off moments, that was far from a bad thing… especially considering the fact that she could hold her ground with a level, amused look and raised eyebrow until she was allowed to finish making her point, if interrupted.

Her personality was a bit more in line with her own, Relena had decided.

"Mutton always struck me as a colonial food," Mu admitted, staring out the window. "The decrease in beef was probably one of the first things that made it all really hit home that I wasn't going to just… wake up and have everything be better again."

…Mu _was_ American, and had the somber air most of the surviving citizens. Life had changed very little in the colonies, and while many of the shifts had been drastic throughout the planet, nothing compared to the mass dead zones and loss of the two American continents. The largest piece of _Libra_ had fallen off the coast of Chile, but all of the northern half of South America, all of Central America, Mexico, and the western half of the United States had been heavily showered with debris.

Areas as far southeast as Buenos Aires and as for north as New York and Maine had escaped the majority of the initial damage, but the need to evacuate the north and what was left of the Midwest had been immediately apparent as temperatures quickly dropped. One of Milliardo's first motions of the Regime had been to attempt to evacuate as much of the west as was possible into the colonies, but before the week was out he had had to admit that sending any manned shuttles in was killing more than half of the attempted rescuers. He had retreated into assisting any shuttles that tried to rise out… but it hadn't been long before those became rare. Satellite footage had alternately shown complete abandonment and death and destruction, or rioting and violence… There had been some attempts to drop food and supplies from space, at first. They had sent a bare handful of ships specialized to withstand cosmic storms that could probably take the abuse of the weather, but only one had returned successfully; the others had been mobbed and wrecked, then taken for parts.

She had sobbed for days when Milliardo had officially closed the western borders from all entry, but she had understood. It had been a relief in some ways, as the shock of _Libra_'s fall ended enough to really _cry_, where she had just been frozen before…

Then the eastern economy had started to collapse… And either a civil war or just pure chaos had ensued. She wasn't entirely sure of the end result, beyond it being utterly disastrous, and that had been possibly preventable, with aid.

When Milliardo had terminated all support or even communication, she had screamed at him. She'd done it both logically, arguing, then just purely from the heart once it became clear nothing would convince him anyway and there was nothing left but despair. Then she had curled up sobbing in his arms in front of his entire staff for over an hour. Afterwards, he had explained all the details and reasons why he had done it, and she had understood even if she didn't agree, and had sat with him crying periodically all night, letting her very imperfect brother _be_ an older brother and try to make everything alright. It had been a sense of family she had secretly missed and been craving for so long that it had made everything… okay again, despite the disaster, and had given her hope for her own future.

It was the day after that when he bought her her first ticket away from all the politics. She had never really forgiven him for that, though she still wasn't sure if the slight was over his belittlement or his abandonment of her, as well as of the Americas.

"…I can only perceive the disaster so far," Relena admitted after a long moment. "I understand more than that, but I cannot… _comprehend_ the scale, and if I could, I'm not entirely sure I would be able to function at all." After another moment, she added, "I believe my brother is afraid to try to understand more than the logistics of it, himself."

"I don't blame him for the abandonment," Mu returned quickly, turning away from the window to meet her eyes. "I don't know that there was anything else really for options, and he supported any further evacuation attempts even after he shut the borders. It was a lost cause, and everyone knew it; there was nothing left to be had. I just…"

_Which means, she __**does**__ blame him for __**Libra**__._ She offered the woman a sad smile. _But who doesn't? He __**did**__ it._ "I find myself wishing it had never happened, myself. I went up there to try to stop him, but…" She grimaced ruefully. "I suppose the results speak for themselves.

Relena would never defend her brother's attempt to wholesale slaughter the entire planet. _Never_.

Mu's smile was tired and rueful in the same way. "No use crying over spilled milk, really. It's done with, and if raging against the past would get me anything, I'd be all over it. But as this is reality now, I figure I might as well spend the energy on something more… constructive." Her following smile was more genuine as she gestured back out the window. "So… sheep and goats have taken up a lot of the meat industry… and pigs too, right?"

"Right," Relena agreed, glad the other woman had introduced the change in subject. "And eggs; fewer chickens are going to the slaughterhouse, now. You haven't seen any of the hydroponics plant buildings yet, but they let the chickens run around and do their thing throughout there, managing pests, and through the fields too. The pigs, however, don't need grazing ground, so they're stacked rather disgustingly indoors, floor after floor." She made a face. "I've only visited one of those personally, and don't greatly care to see one again unless it's absolutely necessary." Gesturing back out the window, she added, "This is a bit more peaceful. Raising rabbits for the meat and fur has gotten rather popular again, but it's mostly being done on a small scale…"

It was nice to dive into business, to focus on the productive measures being taken and leave the morose end of current life behind for a little while.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 20****th**** – Friday – Lausanne, Switzerland**

"I'm hungry."

Odin blinked as his phone vibrated, then frowned as he dug for it. "Didn't you eat an hour ago?"

Marlé shrugged. "Something like that. We should get something to eat, though."

…He couldn't decide if that was probably normal or not; his own thoughts on the timing of food when he was her age had never been indulged. Frowning again at the 'Lu' on his caller ID, he hit the connect. _"Grüetzi."_

_"Grüetzi,"_ Noin's voice returned almost impatiently. "How's your schedule over the next two weeks?"

He ran a few references and scenarios through his head. "Easily arranged. Why?"

"Tch. Two of my best are running off on some sort of family emergency, and I don't have anyone that could cover a few of their shifts. You do good work, when I can talk you into it."

Odin considered Marlé for a bare moment, then shrugged. "I'm not against it. "Which shop were they working out of?"

"Bucharest. Where in Switzerland are you, again?"

"Lausanne." There was a reason he'd answered the phone with a Swiss greeting, despite being in the French part of the country.

"I know the trains through there," Noin decided after a moment. "They usually have one on its way to Milan around 13:00."

He checked his watch. "That's only half an hour off, so I should be able to make that then plan the rest of the route from there." Marlé made a rather loud, annoyed noise at him and he rolled his eyes. "Go find something to eat then, I'll pack." Gesturing for her to be careful before she darted off, he headed back in the direction of the hotel they had been basing out of for the past four days. "You're checking that time, right?"

"As we speak," she agreed. "What was that about?"

The older woman already knew Marlé existed. "She wants to eat on the hour, apparently; she was demanding a second lunch before you called."

A thoughtful noise. "She's young, I've gathered?"

"Somewhat."

"Is she going to be with you?"

"Vaguely."

She laughed. "You're surprisingly honest, you know."

"I'm not sure how to respond to that."

There was another husky chuckle on the other end of the line. "_Exactly._"

Odin shrugged. "How urgent is this, really?"

"Mm, not as much as I'm making it out to be, if you need a handful of days, but important; I was hoping you weren't as far as 2000 kilometers away. I trust you dislike planes as much as I do, these days?"

"My passport is colonial, so I have less issue getting to and from space," Odin allowed, "but Earth air transports give outsiders a harder time." Zechs only bothered trying to control the colonies to a minimal degree; his own backyard, however, was a different story, and planes could all too easily become a trap with a single poor move. It was entirely doable, but there were easier methods available. "It's just not worth the hassle if I can help it."

"Mm, I get the same trouble with my Earth passport out in space these days," Noin agreed companionably. "There's just no other option, up there."

"True." Technically, there _were_ ways, but he was sure that Noin knew them, and they were hardly the kind of thing to discuss over the airways.

They were silent for a moment as he walked and she presumably looked up the information he needed, before Noin dared ask a more personal question. "The girl _will_ be fine without you, right?"

Odin smirked. He appreciated the sentiment on some level, but the fact that she might not be was… amusing. "I've taught her how to handle herself; I don't want her far enough away that I can't help her if she needs it, but she can manage any situation either on her own or long enough for me to back her up." He frowned. "Are we going to be moving around at all?"

"…We might, a bit."

_Maybe I should send her to the Sronas._ It wouldn't be much further to Israel from Romania, and he could probably get Moira to meet her partway. He trusted the Sronas, and Leia both knew and had no issue with them; she and Dr. Srona were not so different in their ideals, after all. After meeting Sally, Samuel, and Leia, he was starting to suspect that medicine tended to breed a certain kind of individual. He'd have to talk it over with Marlé on the way to Milan.

"Alright, the train leaves at 13:20, and it doesn't look like it's a very full trip, so you should be able to buy the tickets at the station if you'd prefer."

"Aa. I'll contact you once I have a route planned."

"Thanks, Heero."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**The Sahara Desert – Southern Libya**

It was… like a dream. If it hadn't been so cold now with the biting night wind, or if he hadn't been watching and rationing his water carefully, he might have thought it all a mirage or fever dream, but… somehow, it was all _real_.

The last two days had been an insane brand of hide and seek south through the desert on a level that Dana would not have believed was at all possible, before Robby had just _done_ it with them. After all, they had gotten so skilled at trying to find people doing just that, let alone the way they skirted a few encampments so closely… The only answer Robby had been willing to offer was that he couldn't have pulled it off with a larger group than they made up. He said he hadn't tried this already because there had been no way he could take the entire encampment, over a hundred men, by this route. He had been trying to scout the way for nearly a year, and he said he'd finally figured it out in April, but… If Dana hadn't already trusted in Robby more than be believed in the existence of his very soul, he would have believed the man had finally finished going off the deep end and was leading them to their deaths in the depths of the sands that even the Cambyses hadn't dared to venture into. After they had made their way past the southernmost encampment at a travel time that had had them all gasping, he had headed still further south, into the nastiest part of the desert that was supposed to have raging sandstorms more often than not. There was _nothing_ this way, nothing but dehydration and exposure and death…

…And what looked like the shadow of a giant military base, mostly buried in dunes.

There was something both humbling and deeply comforting about when Robby was so perfectly right and capable; he had known the code to open the great, shuddering door that led into a dark but shockingly clean and untouched metal hallway, which had then turned into the balcony of a cavernous space that could only have been used to house mobile suits, once. After they had all gotten inside and shut the door, Robby had closed his eyes and taken a deep breath, relaxing into a slump, before he turned and smiled brightly, _genuinely_ at them.

It was the first time he had ever seen the blonde man look anything close to happy, and it was like the stern, wild fighter he had followed through Hell itself began to simply melt away. "Welcome to Adashia, everyone." His voice was quiet and his face tired, but there was a foreign warmth in it. "I lived here with friends, once… Rashid won't mind if we liven the place up a bit, I'm sure."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Amsterdam**

Chaos was his hero, if he wanted to admit to having anything like a hero.

Well, it was Kasey, now. He supposed saying 'chaos' like that sounded a little crazy.

When he'd first met the guy, he hadn't expected much. Really, he'd assumed that before too long, they'd probably never see him again, or if they did, only rarely. That was the usual pattern when someone reached out to the church; it was something about how people's minds worked. They did their 'good' deed and helped the poor church and the poor little orphans, maybe went to a lot of effort with it. Sometimes they'd even stay in touch for a handful of months, but then it was more spaced out, and kinda random. Once they'd gone and done their 'something good', they tended to fade into the background and forget the little church existed for months or years until they felt guilty about something and tried to absolve themselves by coming in with donations. Father Espen had explained to him when he was small that for better or worse, these were the patterns that outsiders of the church tended to follow. Basically, most people thought God was something they only needed when things weren't going their way, and could be forgotten otherwise.

But Chaos hadn't been like that… he'd practically moved in as much as you could, without sleeping there. And he'd never been a pain about anything… he'd just… been Chaos, he supposed. He didn't want or expect anything in return, he was just… there. And… it had been nice.

It wasn't exactly a surprise to find out he was the same way with the Devils too, though it was kinda unbelievable; another of those patterns most people held onto was that if they spent up their kindness in one place, they usually ran out of it in other places, with other people. Men would treat their customers and beat their wives, try to give the world to their little sister while they deprived and beat on strangers. The best scenarios to hope for with people, on average, was that they showered attention on one person or group and were just apathetic about everyone else. There was often a kind of safety in anonymity, because most of the time, people had to give a damn to want to try to hurt you in the first place. At least, that was true so long as you looked poor and uninteresting; Amos was pretty sure he'd avoided more than one terrible situation just by looking too broke to be bothered with.

His father would have cried to hear him say that… but sometimes he wondered if it was his father's pride that had killed him in the end, leaving him alone until Father Espen took him in.

He hadn't been able to cry when the Father had told him he couldn't stay at the church anymore. Everything had frozen and shattered and he hadn't known how to even breathe until Kay pulled him into a hug, and he realized why the mechanic was there in the first place. He'd gasped out a sob without meaning to and held onto him tighter… because he'd known Chaos long enough to know he'd keep his promises. That he wouldn't lose interest like everyone else always had… He'd known that Kay actually cared about him, and that it would all turn out okay, no matter what happened. With anyone else he would have assumed that it would only work for a few months and then he'd have to figure something else out, but Kay was…. well, just different. And now that it had been a while, he thought it was actually… nice… to not be living out of the church.

"Are you good on your homework yet?"

"Almost done," Amos called back, focusing back on his textbook instead of the tool set Kay and Melissa had given him for his birthday last month. It still seemed unbelievable, sometimes… but he'd gotten used to the idea that that was just how things might be from now on. It was weird, but definitely not bad… and even if it _got_ bad he was starting to think it might still be okay.

Either way, though, he was starting to think he needed to get Nolan to help him if he wanted to pass English.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 21****st**** – Saturday – The Sahara Desert – Algeria**

Mitchell sighed, leaning back in his camp chair and closing his eyes.

It could have been going far worse.

Charel's encampment and the one further west than them had been settled nigh immediately, and the next over ahead of schedule, thanks to Charel and his people. From there, it had been about what he'd expected… but then, he'd expected a hard hit of casualties and heartbreak. Unfortunately, fate hadn't disappointed him.

At least that first kid, Cory, was safe. He was far from psychologically sound, but that would take time… and the fact that the boy's family had gone missing with him hadn't been surprising, though David had held out some small amount of hope. He hated to send him into the system of orphanages, but there were so _many_ orphans now, and it would still be a kinder life than his last two years. Charel seemed to be in a permanent state of scorn, but he knew Mitchell was doing as much as he could, and didn't dispute him. The Frenchman had to be admired for the fact that he was pushing ahead steadily regardless of everything, but David supposed that that was how he'd made it this far in the first place.

He wished he'd paid more attention to the man they all claimed had pulled them together, before he'd died. Robby… Robin Stanton, according to the list. He had found a few possible relatives in the databases, but he had decided he wasn't going to give any official notices until the core of the conflict was over. He had enough shit on his plate, currently.

They were only three days in… it was going to get worse. It was probably going to get _much_ worse, and it was all he could do to hope that there were more people across the Sahara and Sudan like this Robby, or in the absence of that, enough who would turn on their fellow Cambyses if given an option. He was a little low on that hope, however; Cory had tried to tell him that there were so few in the nearby camps because Robby had actively hunted for non-believers, but that seemed both improbable in terms of accuracy and highly optimistic. He had nothing against optimism in general, but he wasn't going to count on it any time soon.

He was done for the night, though, and he trusted the people he had on guard and staff… in a minute, he'd remember where he put his bedroll and do his meditation so he could get a few dreamless hours of sleep. He vaguely considered calling Jake, but decided he wasn't in the mood for any kind of cheerful company, or feeling maudlin enough to talk about what anything that had happened. Jake could just focus on the princess and politics, and he'd… get this done. He'd get it done so that people could be safe again, and maybe some of these _kids_ could go home, and the victims could rest in peace.

If it wouldn't fuck up possibly usable land in what had once been the Sudan desert, he was tempted to seriously reconsider the idea of bombs. If the rate of deserters stayed as low as in the three encampments after Roshan, it might truly be less loss of life overall…

But if he was truly starting to think that way, it really was time to forcibly shut his brain down and sleep.

Groaning softly, he pushed himself back to his feet and headed towards one of the shuttles. He could just use one of the standard issue bedrolls, he didn't feel up to finding which shuttle he had last left his shit on. Waving to people as he passed by, he muttered his intentions so everyone would know where to find him, and started obliterating all his stray thoughts.

He really couldn't afford the restless sleep that nightmares would offer him; he needed to keep functioning at his best.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**The Sahara Desert – Southern Libya – Adashia**

After they had first arrived, he had only stayed conscious long enough to show everyone where the bathrooms and sleeping quarters were, and most had followed his example. In order to get them this far so fast, he had had to push them all to their limits, and himself well past his own. When he had found Adashia again two months ago, their camp had been further southeast, and he had been able to take a more direct and faster route than he had this time – it was easier to hide himself than it was to conceal twenty-three men. He hadn't allowed himself to push any risks too far, however; it would have all been for naught if they were found, so he had given the group overall far more buffer than he would have alone.

When he had woken again, he had focused entirely on working out what functionality the base still had, and fixing what problems he found. The water was still good, and the heater too; everyone else had immediately gone to shower, at that point. Thankfully, the attack that caused them to evacuate the town three years ago appeared to not have damaged the hanger irreparably. Only one of the large hanger doors would still open, but that was all he needed, and it suited their situation perfectly. That done, he had gone to search out the food stores, only to find that the others had beaten him to it and there was plenty of dinner for everyone, something to genuinely celebrate… And then once he had eaten and was leaning back to relax, Vaska had teased him for still being unwashed, and he hadn't been able to avoid it any longer.

Don had tossed him a pair of khakis and a t-shirt that he had found somewhere along with the novelties of fresh underwear and socks, and he hadn't been able to do anything but stare at the clothes for a moment, wondering who they had belonged to, thankful on some level that they _weren't_ his. He hadn't had to be startled out of his reverie to break it, though, and had found a razor and made his way to the bathroom… and avoided looking at the mirror.

He wasn't entirely sure he was ready to face himself again just yet. It would… break the dream, and bring home just how twisted everything had become, despite the best intentions. He was hanging onto a tenuous thread of sanity, and the world was all about to shatter again… and it might take him time to pick up all the pieces.

He didn't want to see the boy who had once thought he could change the world for the better.

The razor had been a hopeful sort of waste when it came to his face, as he still hadn't grown anything that could pass for stubble of beard, but it was nice to not have a ridiculous amount of hair under his arms again. His father had insisted he always be impeccably groomed, growing up, and hair collected smell faster… he wondered how long it would be before his nose readjusted to differentiate true cleanliness again, or if it ever would. The thick suds of the shampoo and soap was a luxury he had forgotten about entirely, never mind the strangeness of having hair so long that it was halfway down his shoulder blades. _I should probably keep it long; it'll frame my face differently._ He had been growing it out before Cambyses had taken him, after all. He would need to find someone who could cut it into something that looked purposeful, though, instead of just the current shag he was sure it made up.

He was done being a vagabond; he wasn't going to look like one anymore either.

The time he spent under the hot spray of water was spent collecting himself, making tiny, frivolous decisions that nonetheless made him feel better, more… solid. This was going to be a new start again, and probably rough, but not… _new_ new. This was old ground, things he was familiar with and good at, and he could follow his own morals and beliefs openly now. He didn't need to mask himself and trick and tie his own mind into knot after knot of deception just to stay out of suspicion and alive… he was going to be able to live by his own rules, give or take a few details, like keeping from being recognized.

He stayed in the water until he felt as though he could face down any demon, whatever fate threw him next, before opening the shower stall door and wrapping an amazingly thick, fluffy towel around himself. The towel felt smaller, like it covered less of him than it ought to… he wondered suddenly how much he had grown. He hadn't really cared before but he was… eighteen now. Cambyses had taken over fifteen months from him.

On a visceral level, he hoped that Colonel Mitchell razed them all to the very ground. He knew better, there _were_ people like his own… but he just couldn't let himself _care_ about the ones he didn't know, or he'd truly go mad. It was better that he have nothing to do with it.

_…Enough tangents._ Gathering his nerves in a tight grip, he leaned forward to wipe the steam away from the mirror in a large circle, and took a deep breath before really _looking_ at himself… and blinked.

A stranger blinked back at him.

Disbelieving, he snatched up a hand towel and wiped more of the condensation away to get a clearer image, turned his head from side to side, finally leaning forward so he was only a bare inch away and stared, reaching up to trace the scar along his left cheek which seemed more faint than he had sworn it had to be. It wasn't until his breath had fogged the glass again that the pure shock of it all broke.

He started laughing, and found he just couldn't stop.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**New Orleans, Louisiana**

Hilde shivered a little as she punched in numbers, glancing back in the direction of the boys. Reintroductions had been fun, and they had all moved into a safer area than where Xu had managed to land them before 'Adam' began explaining the situation, but if she waited to report any longer, their general was going to be furious, and Sally would line up to slap them both right after her once they got home. She was still within bounds, though, and she wanted to make this call on her own, so she'd told Xu she'd handle it. He seemed happy to talk to his old traveling companion again anyhow, even if he was trying not to show it; apparently Adam had grown since last year.

He'd grown in more than just the last year, by Hilde's memory.

"Are you safe?"

"Safe and secure," Hilde assured, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared out at what she knew had to have once been a bustling city. She'd never been to Earth before _Libra_, but she knew the pictures and stories as well as anyone. Then, even if she hadn't, it was obvious that this place had once been great, then desolated. There were people here and there, here, but not as many as she would have thought. She would have thought more people would be staying to the coastlines.

She really hoped that she was wrong. If she was right, and people _were_ gathering closer to the oceans, then the conditions further inland were more than she wanted to actively think about. She'd known coming to America would be depressing as hell, but knowing wasn't necessarily preparing.

"What's going on?"

"It's complicated," Hilde started. "I'll give you the layout in a minute, but first… "This Adam guy?"

Noin made a relieved sort of noise. She'd wanted to know more about him, but Xu hadn't been able to give them much. "What?"

Hilde glanced sidelong back at the brunette and shook her head a little, a smile creeping onto her face. "_Totally_ Trowa Barton."

_oOo_

* * *

**_oOo_**

**_End Breaking the Rules_**

**_oOo_**

* * *

** Thoughts? Review, maybe? **


	6. Altered Insight

_**Altered Insight**_

_Nothing in the universe can travel at the speed of light, they say, forgetful of the shadow's speed. _

– _Howard Nemerov_

* * *

**_oOo_**

** Right, in terms of actually getting something **_**done**_**… This story has gotten stupidly complex on me so that it can get nigh impossible to keep ordered without outline upon outline… **

** For the record, this ran away from me, then with me, then utterly ignored and refused to talk to me I don't know how many times; the chapter's over thirty pages again. Unlike last time, things of actual significance managed to happen, some of which I feel like I've been waiting damn near forever to get down. At this point, I suspect you honestly agree with me. I'll try to do better on timing, I swear, but well, the psychosis of life and the muses both tend to abound. The fact that the plot and characters have gotten so extensive on me is only tempered by the fact that I still seem to accidentally foreshadow things I haven't consciously realized I'm going to do yet. This is extremely fortunate for this style of writing, but nonetheless mind-boggling when you realize that while three days ago you had no idea how a major player in a war – Treize – was going to go about his business of kicking ass, you have in fact been foreshadowing it and crafting the details that make up the final result for the past seventeen chapters. I half want to marvel, and half want to go bang my head on the wall and see if anything else interesting comes loose. **

**Edit:**** I realized there was a point I didn't want to keep with back in Chapter 4 of Survival, before I had my thoughts even halfway formed. Atia Winner noted in the first scene that the Winner sisters had been forbidden contact with Quatre due to their father's paranoia of them spilling the secret. I changed it as a note that he forbade contact with the younger range of his children, those who were under twenty years old when he was born. I suppose the jackass was worried that peer relationship would win over obedience and faith that father always knew best.**

**oOo**

* * *

**June 23****rd**** 198 – Monday – The Sahara Desert – Algeria**

"Mitchell?"

David woke at his name, then frowned when the first thing he saw was Charel's face; he was positive it hadn't been his voice. However, before he could look to see who had called him, the Frenchman met his eyes solidly and swore, "I _didn't know_."

His stomach dropped as possibilities flooded him.

"Damnit, Razo, calm down," Cassidy snapped. "Colonel, it's not the apocalypse, just a runaway. The kid with Charel's group and Layson took off into nowhere on one of the last camp's demarked birds. It's upsetting, but hardly even qualifies as a loss, they took one of ones we hadn't even started to look over to put back on the registry."

"I didn't know," Charel repeated sharply. "Charlie said he'd look after him and get him something to eat, and Cory can look after himself, and I thought they slept somewhere else." He met David's eyes again. "I just found the note and went to Lieutenant Foreman immediately."

Mitchell sighed as his brain fought to catch up. That was… _Great._ The urge to sigh and just roll over would be bad for moral. "I believe you," he assured Charel, who looked like he was about to start ranting about his noninvolvement. Sitting up and glancing at his watch, he looked back to his second. "Ignoring the humane end of it, material losses?"

"Minimal, like I just said. They were smart about it. The plane was out of the newly acquired; we don't even have the serials on it."

He caught the second part of the message in there. _There's no way we could track it._ Charel's terror and indignation were fading into a purely wretched and miserable expression. _Of course._ The man had been tentatively talking about taking Cory in himself once this nightmare was over with, asking about the legalities of it…

He debated if he cared to even ask about the note the kid had left, or at least if doing it might help Charel.

It felt callous, but he just… didn't see how it would make a difference at this point. "Good luck to him." This was chaos already; they'd sort out what was sortable as time went on, maybe find the guy who must have flown it, because there was no way the thirteen-year-old civilian had. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Sorry, Razo."

"…Me too."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**The Sahara Desert, Southern Libya – Adashia**

Vaska grinned broadly as they came out of the shuttle, looking surprisingly different but still the same, clean and in fresh clothes. "Hey, was starting to wonder when we'd see you. First thing we worked on once we got here was making sure we could dock you guys okay, but it's been a few days.

Cory wondered if he looked different too, but he knew he looked different even clean now compared to clean before, so it didn't matter much.

"We wanted to be sure you hadn't gotten hung up somewhere," Charlie returned. "And the chance didn't fall into our laps right away either, so we waited a bit. In the meantime, it was safe and easy food for a few days, and some work for the cause, for me." He started to head for what were obviously the doors to the rest of the base, and Cory followed.

Vaska walked alongside Cory and ruffled his hair like he sometimes did. "You look good too, kid. You got someone to cut your hair, huh?"

When the woman had offered, he hadn't seen any reason to tell her no. It was strange to not have in his eyes anymore, but nice. He tilted his head a little to each side, and Vaska chuckled. "Good to have you back, even with what it means. I think Robby's missed you; he's been a bit weird."

He couldn't help but smile a little at that, which made Vaska's smile widen a little too. He had missed Robby… though now he might start to miss Razo.

"Who'd you get to tell Razo?"

"Jalee will in a day or two," Charlie explained.

Robby had said they needed to be sure Razo's reaction at Cory being gone was genuine, but that it would be cruel to let him think it hadn't been planned for too long, because he would worry. This way, no one had to lie more than they had to already, or do anything they didn't want to in the first place. His family was gone… and Robby had said if they were gone, then he could stay with him.

He wondered if Robby was still Robby, though, or if he'd changed yet. Cory was fairly sure he was going to, but he didn't know how much. It would be okay, he was still him… just not Robby.

There… was music.

"What's that?"

It was… haunting, lilting… yet there was something happy about it too.

Vaska laughed again, not something Cory was used to seeing so many times so close together. "Apparently, Robby's played violin all his life, and left the thing here."

"That's _Robby_?"

He laughed more as he took the lead, walking faster. "He's been playing it practically day and night since he found it, really complicated stuff too, from memory. Seems like he brings the damn piece of wood to life; that or it's putting more life into him, I can't make up my mind. He's… bright."

"Bright?"

Cory walked faster, only keeping pace with Vaska now instead of running ahead because there were too many ways to turn, and he wasn't sure which way the music was coming from. _Definitely not Robby anymore._ He couldn't wait.

_"Obil'nyj,"_ Vaska returned, then blinked and seemed to remember he was trying to speak English. "He's… better, not dark. Not happy, but…"

"Hopeful," Cory suggested.

Vaska shrugged. "You'll see."

Charlie seemed doubtful, but curious, and soon enough they were there. Cory ran to him and threw his arms around him like he sometimes did, interrupting the song… as the other brought his arms around to hug him back with the violin and all… and _laughed_.

He smelled like his mom's laundry and cinnamon and car oil. No blood smell, or sweat or ash.

He'd forgotten what everything was supposed to smell like, until Colonel Mitchell had come. Fruit, and clean, and metal and machine and cloth and exhaust and _girls_.

Some of the women soldiers and the medics had had girly-smelling stuff.

It had been unbelievably cool.

"It's good to see you too, Cory."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Dachau, Germany**

"Relena!" Olivia Dontelaine exclaimed as they came in, standing and smiling delightedly. "It's been a while! I hear you bought Sarracenia."

Olivia… certainly didn't look fifteen anymore. _But neither do I,_ Relena thought wryly. She'd had her hair bobbed short before, while now the thick auburn waves were a ways past her shoulders. Her make-up was different, brows fine, and there was a distinct air of sophistication about the other young woman that the princess didn't remember. She seemed taller, or maybe just slimmer… or it might have just been the difference of clothes. The grey, high-waisted slacks with buttons fashioned over her abdomen and crisp white shirt and black vest were very… sharp, yet in an almost carelessly casual way.

She found herself wanting the outfit almost immediately, though she could do without the delicate-looking stilettos.

"It's good to see you too," Relena returned, moving forward to pull her into a hug. She hadn't seen Olivia since she had evacuated her students from Sanc. "You hardly look the same, your hair's lovely this length… What, pray tell, is Sarracenia?" She smiled as she pulled away. "And if I did buy it, did I at least get a good bargain?"

The redhead laughed delightedly. "I'd say! I'm not the only one who's grown; your own hair looks better short, I think, and your face has lost all its baby sweetness… I don't know that you've grown taller, much, but you probably have some height left; no Peacecraft or Weridge have been under 5'7 in at _least_ three generations. As for Sarracenia, now." She frowned. "Had the plaque been stolen? Damned vandals… My grandfather maybe six generations back christened the house you bought near Munich Sarracenia; his first daughter used to keep a garden of them on the grounds."

Jake laughed. "Only the ladies of Romefeller…"

Olivia blinked and looked around to the blonde man, and smiled brilliantly when she set her eyes on him. "A pretty trap for the foolish and unwary," she added. "It's a shame my family had to let go of it, but I'm glad it might see some use again."

"It's a lovely compound," Relena confided. "The top floor especially."

"Could I come see it sometime?" Olivia asked immediately. "My grandmother said it was lovely, and I've seen pictures, though I imagine you've changed it…"

"I'm sure we can arrange something," Relena agreed. "This is the head of my guard, by the way, Colonel Jacob Miller." Tilting her head at the man curiously, she asked, "Only the ladies of Romefeller what?"

He grinned broadly. "Would keep carnivorous flowers and boast of it."

…He likely had a point.

"_Pretty_ carnivorous flowers," Olivia argued immediately, smiling herself. "Though I'm not sure how well they might grow in the weather Munich has these days."

Relena smiled. It was a nice thought, but flowers? "I haven't the time to keep a garden, nor the inclination, I'm afraid."

"Too true, with your schedule," Olivia agreed. She seemed to remember something suddenly and gestured to the aide who had been sitting in an out of the way chair near a different door than they had come in. "In any case, you've gotten the masses to happily grow for you, and something far more useful than flowers, I must say." She smiled as she sat back on the little loveseat she had been on when they arrived… and began to remove her shoes. "You're far too practical for something so frivolous, I suppose. A hound, however, that's hardly useless."

Relena paused, reran the last few seconds of conversation, then when that turned up no explanation, the last minute or so. "I'm sorry?"

The woman Olivia had sent out hurried back in, so many things in her hands she must have had them already set aside to be so fast. The redheaded noblewoman thanked her warmly as she grabbed the hair band she held out first, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail as she slipped off her second shoe with one bare foot. "Well I enjoy the social niceties as much as the next person, but you've business to be about, and it's rude to keep a guest waiting." She pulled a pair of thick socks apart as the aide gently nudged aside the coffee table – it moved as smoothly as if it had wheels, somehow – and set the discarded stilettos on it as she dropped a pair of hiking boots at her lady's feet. "Thank you, Natalie. Everything arranged out back?"

"As arranged as they get," the woman returned cheerfully. "I've some eggs and omelet makings ready to go in the pan if they've the time, too."

"Lovely. Have you eaten?" she asked suddenly, looking up from tying her shoes with surprising speed to look first to Relena, then to smile at Jake. "I haven't the slightest idea how, but Natalie can keep three frying pans cooking without the slightest hint of char. I can manage enough for the rest of your men to breakfast too, if you'd like, but I still don't know how much time you set aside for this."

"We don't need to leave for another ninety minutes or so," Jake noted, sounding amused. "I'm afraid we were only expecting those social niceties, though."

Olivia blinked in confusion as her hands finally stilled, focusing fully on Relena again. "You aren't here for the yearlings?" At the princess' confused look, she covered a sheepish smile with one hand. "Oh dear, then that _was_ a bit rude of me."

"Apparently I ought to have mentioned that Duchess Dontelaine runs a kennel," Jake added to Relena. "I didn't think too much on it, honestly."

"Except that my best litter to date just finished their training three weeks ago, and requests have been flooding in," Olivia explained. "I just assumed…" Again, that sheepish smile. "My apologies."

"Oh, it's fine," Relena assured her. "You just caught me by surprise. To be honest, the idea never occurred to me but," she looked down at herself a moment. "Well, I'm not wearing anything white, at least. What kind of dogs?"

The other woman's smile was brilliant as she went back to lacing her boots. "Komondors."

Relena didn't have the slightest idea what that meant, but Jake blinked and grinned. "Big boys, then; I couldn't find a mention of breed before, or anything about an active litter."

"I'm not breeding dogs during a food shortage unless I have customers willing to wait from conception to pup," the duchess informed him firmly. "It's not as if they are Pomeranians; each pup eats as much as a child the same weight." She shrugged as she stood and picked up the thick flannel shirt Natalie had dropped on the arm of the couch. "But you can't pick your litter number and some people always back out, so I let it out that I had a few open to good homes." She smiled broadly at Relena. "Had something of a boom more recently though, with all your farming projects. The wolves are more desperate now than ever, after all, so I've three more litters on the way."

_Three litters?_ Relena found herself wondering suddenly how many dogs compiled a litter; her parents had never allowed pets of any kind. "That sounds…"

"It'll be a handful," Olivia agreed with a wink. "Exhausting, yet utterly adorable; I'll regret it before I'm halfway through and have to hire on an assistant or two, I'm sure."

"So… breakfast?" Natalie prompted.

Jake looked to Relena, who shrugged a little. "Let's make it lunch," he decided after a moment. "We thought we'd keep your mistress company until eleven forty or so, so if we could plan to eat around eleven? We have four more with us."

"Sounds good; I'll go get the details from them."

"And while she puts everything together for me, I'll lead you out to the kennels," Olivia finished, moving towards the door Natalie had run out before and gesturing for them to follow. "They're worth seeing, if nothing else; we can retire back inside after introductions, if you find them disagreeable."

"I wouldn't mind seeing them," Relena agreed easily. It was, at any rate, turning out to be a more interesting morning than she had initially planned, and that was generally a good thing.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Marlin, Texas – The United States**

Hilde vaguely tried to rearrange her scarf so it was warmer somehow, maybe covering more of her face, and tried not to look back at the readout again. The levels through the whole area had been confirmed as stable… a little too high to be comfortable with, but not dangerous. Yet.

_We need more data before I can let myself fall into obsessively tracking every single rad of rise and fall,_ she told herself firmly. She wasn't that deep into the fear yet, and it wasn't warranted yet. They had taken all the possible extra precautions in any case.

The colonist in her wanted to scream in horror at the fact that no one besides the three of them seemed to be _noticing_ the increasing levels of radiation coming out of this small deserted town, and that when they had even pointed it out to the few locals they'd found, they were given entirely blank looks. She understood it was Earth and all, and that the space-born equated knowing the local rads at all times in every direction to being the same as knowing whether or not you had _air_, but… she had never realized how potentially massive the culture gap might be until this. These people didn't regulate their air, their radiation, and they _barely_ did something that could be called water regulation. The mindframe was a luxury of living planetside that she didn't think of all that often anymore, but apparently Adam had initially tried to tell those nearby, and he had only received uncomprehending looks and shrugs. She wasn't convinced they had any idea what radiation even _was_.

Hilde had known the ins and outs of all radiation safety protocol, how to understand the meters and calibrate the sensors before she could even _read_. These people just…

_They're just trying to survive and make do. They understood enough that they didn't want to go near there, and they listened when we told them they needed to evacuate and possibly never come back._ They _weren't_ idiots, and on some level she knew she really believed they were real, sensible people; they just knew _nothing_ about the dangers the spaceborn took in with their mother's milk as a simple fact of life.

The knowledge didn't change the fact that she'd just been slammed with a kind of culture clash that she hadn't even thought actually existed, and it was still making her world spin.

The fact was, this abandoned little village was letting out enough radiation that it might rival a nuclear power plant. That was creepy without even diving into the possibilities of the original source, like, say, nuclear warheads in the bunker stationed underneath the village, which Adam had confirmed the existence of before deciding he needed assistance. Bunker security was not, after all, your usual infiltration mission… and even if the amnesiac gundam pilot had the kind of specialty explosives that could break in, there was a chance that such a heavy-handed approach could make things worse.

Hilde _really_ hoped it wasn't a leftover doomsday device that had finally been triggered. They still stumbled across those damn relics from the pre-colonial era periodically, and they were touchy as hell. Adam hadn't been able to get more information than the fact that the bunker had listings for a total of six nuclear weapons on site… and the type was nonspecific. Whatever was going on, considering the timing it was more likely that people were involved than it was that the damn missiles or whatever had set themselves off – _fucking ancient technology_ – which was when Adam had decided to back off before even confirming the perimeter. The fallout result from an accidental nuclear explosion would be pretty bad, considering the current condition of their atmosphere; all six blowing would probably have distinct effects for the other continents, and if one went off, it was likely to pull the others into a chain reaction.

If this was intentional, and someone was fucking with the weapons to shoot them somewhere specific, say Brussels or other key cities in retribution for the loss of North America, the results could be _devastating_. And what kind of psycho would think messing with old nukes was a good idea? The violent crazy-ass kind, who, by lack of the action so far with steadily increasing levels of rads over the past few months, was also a _moron_ who didn't know what the fuck he was doing. If anyone was down there, they had to be radiation sick, and probably had been for a while.

It was far from an ideal self-assigned mission, but Adam wasn't sure if anyone else bothered actually looking through the satellite scans for America anymore, at least, the ones that could read more than pure visuals. Hilde could totally see that, and kinda wondered what kick had gotten _him_ looking it in the first place. He'd said even if he trusted the Regime to handle the situation delicately enough, were it brought to their attention, they probably didn't have the manpower with everything going on in the Sahara; Zechs was born and raised dirtside and might dismiss the importance of the whole thing. He'd agreed when Chang brought it up, though, that if this ended up being over their heads too, they'd bolt and do just that anyhow; Peacecraft had gone and taken over the fucking world, he could bloody well take care of it and deal with the repercussions if he fucked up _again_. They were doing this out of concern for the planet, not his damn reign.

And that seemed to just… be what Adam had been doing on his own. Like Chang had tried to argue before, he was rogue, but his intentions were noble, and his methods damn efficient. He thought being with an organization might weigh him down, and while Hilde kinda doubted that, she could see where he might get the idea. She'd seen the kind of shit Duo was capable of all on his own, after all… And that was the other thing.

He didn't want to be called Trowa; said it wasn't him. Said he didn't really remember much of anything before she and Duo had found him at the circus, a few months before everything with _Libra_ came to a head. He also wasn't the shy boy she had met then, or the silent one who had let her hold his hand until she passed out and his suit was repaired on _Peacemillion_, after Duo had run back out to battle. Knowing what she did about him, she was a little surprised, looking back, that he had bothered… but she had appreciated it more than she could say even now. She'd been half convinced she was going to die, despite Duo having pulled her ass out of the frying pan, and while she'd understood he had to leave, it had taken everything she'd had to not wail. She'd been trying to hold it until she was sure he was too far away to hear her and come back when he was _needed_ on the battlefront, when Trowa had slipped in, sat down next to her, and gripped her hand. She'd stared at him in surprise, and he'd only given her a steady look… but scooted his chair a little closer when she smiled. It had only been five minutes, probably, before Sally's pain killers started to work their magic and she fell asleep, but the contact had… made her feel less like the latest martyr. She'd never had a chance to thank him; she didn't really remember the next few days, and by then everything had all gone down the shitter and everyone was scattered.

She had wondered what he was doing, after he gave them the tipoff about where Heavyarms was hidden, but hadn't put any more thought to it beyond the fact that he was alive and untraceable, like the others hopefully were. Upon arriving in Louisiana, Xu had wasted no time in informing him that they had never lost their unexpected tail of Heero Yuy in their run across Eurasia, and that he was currently in contact with their group. Adam in turn had been surprised then amused and mildly curious, but that… was it. He didn't ask for more information, or offer any, or want to know if they knew about anyone else… like it didn't even occur to him.

So at least for now, she decided not to tell him about Duo. If she ever got the chance to get back to Amsterdam – which was looking less and less likely as time went on – she'd let Duo know, but this Adam guy… but he didn't even remember the war, beyond the last battle. This wasn't the clever guy that had conned Colonel Une and slipped information to Duo in his cell or any of the other stuff Duo and Sally and Noin had told her about; it was the confused kid they'd found on accident at the circus… only, well, not such a confused kid anymore.

She glanced back at the readout on the radiation monitor again, sighed, and picked her binoculars up again, switching them to night vision. She hadn't seen anyone moving down there yet, but she wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not, especially since she knew Adam and Xu _were_ running around down there trying to scout out the area while the lighting was crap. She was still trying to decide if it was a testament to the shitty setting, their skill, or her own possible lack thereof. There was a reason she kept wanting to stare at the instrument she could read clearly and knew couldn't trick her eyes.

She was pointedly thinking in terms of radiation levels, instead of the fact that they might be sitting on top of a practical nuclear apocalypse. Even if it wouldn't kill the rest of the world, it would certainly be _her_ damn apocalypse…

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Near Coburg, Germany**

"This is magnificent!" Olivia exclaimed, staring out the window. "I've never gotten to see them so close, they're bigger than I had realized…"

Somehow, the duchess had talked the princess into letting her come along on the surveying tour for the day. Jake didn't really mind – the entire exchange had been rather amusing in his opinion – but Relena appeared to be mildly confused, or at least flustered. She seemed unsure of exactly how to handle the other young woman. As far as he'd gathered on her history, the enthusiasm Olivia was showing wasn't new to his friend, but the sophisticated intelligence and logic surrounding it was stirring up some degree of mental turmoil.

The attention she was trying to subtly favor him with was also amusing, apparently to Mai as well as him, as the Australian major kept giving him suggestive looks behind the redhead's back. He was pretty sure Relena had been at an angle to see those too, but had evidently decided to pretend she was oblivious to that aspect of her new… friend or follower, Jake wasn't sure. At any rate, at least Duchess Dontelaine was appropriately subtle; anything more would have been downright embarrassing.

It was getting more difficult to keep a straight face, though… and he was losing his confidence in the idea that Mai could keep from laughing through _this_, let alone something more awkward. He was debating telling her that if she didn't stop it with the looks, then she wasn't getting the damn dog she'd half begged to be allowed to have on the compound grounds, but that would end up with the major just teasing him more in private.

And he would deserve _every moment_ of it.

The colonel checked his watch briefly. They were ahead of schedule at least, despite the unexpected meal and guest. Olivia was, if nothing else, quite efficient when she decided she was doing something. If it flustered her so much, Lena could probably stand more exposure to the other noble just to get used to it, if not learn how to exude charisma as a technique to add to her own arsenal…

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_"Could I accompany you today?" the duchess asked hopefully, wiping her hands on a hand towel she had tucked into her back pocket as she stood from her crouch. "Under two hours is hardly any time to catch up, and I had been wanting to see the progress with your amplifiers for some time." _

_ "I think not; it's hardly a tourist site, Olivia." _

_ "I'm hardly a tourist," Olivia protested smoothly. "I may not be in my family's inheriting line, but as a member of the nobility as I have at least as much responsibility to the people as Dorothy Catalonia." The fact that Relena periodically had Dorothy travel in her place did not need to be stated; they both knew the other had caught the implications in the statement. Her face was smooth and open, however, with none of the petulance or manipulation of the words themselves showing through. _

_ "Any visits including Dorothy have been planned, and nothing had to be changed to-" _

_ "Your car seats eight, though; no more planning than that required, and I know better than to get in the way, Relena." _

_ "…I'm afraid I don't understand why this interests you," Relena admitted after a long moment, apparently not coming up with sufficient polite argument to that rebuttal. _

_ "It interests __**you**__, your Majesty; it interests you very much, which means it is every bit as important as my brother has been suggesting it is, perhaps more. When a queen cares deeply for a matter, it is wise for others to follow her lead." _

_ "I am no longer a queen," Relena returned, nowhere near as coldly as Jake might have expected, having heard this topic come up more than once. "I resigned my position to Treize Khushrenada, and shortly after his death, Milliardo dissolved the United Earth Sphere Nation entirely. Even my status as a princess of Sanc is title only, as my brother currently controls our state, much as yours does your own family assets." _

_ "But I am no less a duchess for my lack of power, and you were no less a princess before Zechs Marquise reclaimed your country from Romefeller," Olivia countered serenely. "Monarchy is no temporary commitment of election. The dissolution of a nation does not strip titles so long as it is remembered, and you have long stood for the ideal that we are not to abandon our responsibilities simply because we have been beaten back. I learned that from you in Sanc, Princess, if you must insist on the lesser title. The imposition of your brother's regime does not mean we are not what we were, merely that the power table has shifted yet again. You were once coroneted Queen of the World, and as both a citizen of this world and a lady of the Dontelaine house, I would like to follow my queen's lead, if I may." She bit her lower lip gently. "Please, Relena… I had worried you might have forgotten me, after all this time."_

_~oOo~~oOo~_

That last little guilt trip had been the perfect touch; Olivia had to know outright that she _had_ been forgotten, but now that Lena had remembered her, she was going to use that lapse to her full advantage. It was brilliant, really… and he could tell that his princess was already dissecting the tactics for later use. After all, the tricks that worked _on_ you tended get your attention. In any case, it was easy to see that Olivia had been selected from the many Dontelaine daughters to attend Sanc for more reasons than her close age range to Relena.

They had only been out of the car for maybe three minutes when the whole group seemed to collectively blink. Despite the history of the past few years – or even his own life perspective, with how young he had come to certain aspects of his life – he was surprised to see a girl that appeared to be maybe thirteen hop down the last few steps of the ladder up to a machine into a pair of waiting boots with practiced ease. For a moment he waited for anyone else to start on their way down, but it quickly became evident that she was alone… which was the part that made it odd, in the end. She was probably older than she looked, but he hadn't been under the impression that the Chinese might risk sending someone they thought might not be taken seriously, let alone leave them unsupervised, which meant she was far more than she appeared. She didn't have one of the usual nametags of the workers with her title of assistant.

That fact was amusingly reinforced when someone who _was_ labeled an aide walked by and asked something in a questioning tone, and the girl just kicked a loose clod of dirt at him; the man hurried off as she snapped back a retort.

Mai snickered. _Oh dear._ He really needed to learn Mandarin.

The girl snatched up the clipboard she'd evidently left at the base of the amplifier and started to write before turning to see them… and blinked owlishly. She wrote quickly and dropped the board again, then settled her bare feet deeper into her goulashes and began walking towards them, taking off her gloves and shoving them in one pocket. "Sorry!" she called, grimacing slightly. "My temper is short, and it was a stupid question." Holding out one hand, she offered, "My name is Yu Zi Lao; a machine deeper in was having problems beyond what I've been taught, so my father switched with me and asked me to meet you for him."

Relena smiled and grasped her hand. "Your father?"

"Engineer Kailì Lao. I could… lead you to him?"

Her accent was near nonexistent, but she appeared worried that she might pick the wrong words. At Relena's accepting nod, Mai launched into a more complete response in Chinese, and the girl nodded and pointed before gesturing for them to follow. She kept an easy conversation with Mai as they walked, completely unaffected by the presence of the noble women. Before long she stopped and gestured to one mechanism, saying something else to Mai, who nodded. "She doesn't want to call out to him," she translated. "Incase he's in the middle of something delicate. He ought to be done or at least about to check if anyone's below in a few minutes, though." She smiled a little. "Apparently he hates being yelled to, so he makes it routine to check for someone waiting."

Olivia tried to see up the ladder, but her angle was wrong, and she flicked her gaze to another. Biting her lip a little, looking a touch embarrassed, she focused on Jake. "Could I go up one?"

Of course she had to ask _him_, the fact that he was actually the correct person to ask on this sort of outing not withstanding. Jake glanced to Relena, who only looked faintly amused, before raising an eyebrow at the duchess. "How's your balance?"

"Um…" She grimaced. Jake sighed, debating a polite way to tell her no.

"I could… take you up that one?" Yu Zi offered, pointing to the nearest amplifier besides the one Engineer Lao was apparently in. "Normally, it's only two people, but… I'm light." She focused on Jake, evaluating. "If you can watch her, I could take you."

Lena's expression was easygoing; she didn't mind, evidently. Mai gestured that she had this under control, signaling Jerome to range back in more of a scouting position, so that if trouble were to find them – entirely unlikely – they'd know sooner. Frustrated but perfectly willing to play along, Jake nodded to the engineer's daughter again and started to walk after her, while the duchess made a happy noise and followed.

There was hardly any danger to be had out here, and Mai was more than capable in any case; there was a reason he'd chosen the major. Olivia might well prove to be an important ally in the long run, and he'd readily admit himself that the view from above the crops _was_ pretty fantastic.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

Relena shook her head slightly at her bodyguards, who all grinned back at her, shrugging. In all honesty, Dorothy wasn't much different; and for all that _she_ could tell that Jake was a little annoyed, she was pretty sure no one else present could… and it was mostly exasperation, not actual annoyance. He wouldn't actually get annoyed unless the redhead purposefully invaded his space after he made it clear he didn't appreciate it, and whatever hand he kept on her to make sure of her balance up above, he was already planning that amount of touch. Once he resigned himself to contact with a stranger, the man was implacable.

She wondered if Mai or any of the other new guards had noticed his overall aversion to being touched, yet; it had only been a handful of weeks, and it was only being allowed through that normal barrier he kept that made her realize how _little_ the colonel actually cared for strangers or acquaintances. She was fairly sure Lin had noticed, and Jerome likely had known before his assignment to her guard, but it wouldn't surprise her if Cassidy had never realized before he left for Mitchell's strike force.

"Ah, Miss Darlian-Peacecraft!"

Relena looked up and couldn't help but smile at the very casually upside down man grinning at her. "Engineer Lao, I presume?"

"I should hope so," he returned jokingly. "Would you like to see something unusual? I understand you've been up a few of these before." He winked.

The princess laughed in return; it had been far more than a few, at this point. She considered for a moment and nodded, signing to Mai and Marsden as she went to the mat at the foot of the ladder and bent down to unzip her boots. There were weight limits on the structures, and as Yu Zi had noted, usually only two were allowed up at once. Initially, Jake had insisted on being the one to go up, but once he had a feel for them and the rules inherent in not doing damage to the machines, they had convinced a few engineers to let just the two of them up. Eventually he'd agreed she was proficient enough that it was no true worry, and she'd climbed a number on her own with various technicians, but she had yet to speak with one of the two designing engineers that had come with the tour.

In any case, she was armed and fairly proficient with what she carried, now. It wouldn't come to that, but Jake had gotten her deeply into the habit of contingency planning.

Lao righted himself and settled himself on the edge of the trapdoor she was approaching with his legs hanging down, and shook his hair to right it. It looked as though it just brushed his collar for length, and was kept in a multitude of braids she was more accustomed to seeing on a man of African descent, not Asian. Humor snapped in his dark eyes. His tan was a deep bronze that bordered brown, but that was the case with nearly all of those working on the amplifiers. "Yu Zi didn't give you any trouble, did she?"

"None whatsoever," Relena reassured him. "It's nice to meet people who don't see me and scatter like a bright light's been shone down."

He laughed at that. "Nothing scares the girl, for better or worse. She has a startling capacity for mouthing off when she thinks she can get away with it."

"I might have witnessed a bit of that, but it was lost in translation," the princess agreed in amusement. "She made one of your technicians run away."

Kailì snorted. "Her mother's teaching her marvelously; it's good practice for when she snares a husband."

She briefly wondered if she heard that right, then snickered. "Is that so?"

"A woman's not worth having if she can't manipulate her husband as she pleases, and no man would be good enough for her unless he could stand up to it," the engineer explained cheerfully. "A relationship is half dead if one does nothing but cave to the other."

She grinned more broadly. "I'll keep that advice in mind."

His eyes _sparkled_. "It's good advice for growing girls, I think, whether they take it so literal as Yu Zi or not. You're only a few years older, forgetting the difference in mind and heart, maturity. Even if you're not looking to snatch one for yourself yet, Miss Darlian-Peacecraft, be aware of the potential husbands trying to snatch you."

Relena tossed her hair a little at that; she wasn't too far, now. Idly, she wondered if the word 'snatch' was so strong in his vocabulary for any particular reason. He was missing his daughter's lack of confidence in English, but it was definitely still not his first language. "I have a man with a gun for that."

He laughed delightedly at her response, pulling his legs up and pushing away from the trap door so she would have ample room as she finished the last stretch of ladder. "That you most definitely do. I was surprised not to see him; I was told he was blonde, but there were only people with dark hair below. Did he dye it?"

"No, he and Yu Zi are taking a friend up an amplifier for the first time as a favor; you might be able to see them from up there."

"Ah." He was out of sight now, but she hard him stand and delicately step over to the far edge of the planed dish that was the head of the heat amplifier. After a moment he noted, "I can see three people and colors, but little more; no one but Yu Zi could offer to take two up at once, though." There was a note of smug pride in his tone.

"How old is she?"

"Fifteen, now." He shrugged. "And I think full grown, though she is upset when I suggest it. I don't know why; I think her mother is a _wonderful_ height, but most girls who want to compete with all the boys are disappointed when they have to tilt their heads to meet eyes with their competition." He tilted his own head to one side as she pulled herself up to a kneeling position on the deck and carefully closed the trap door behind her. "Do you need a hand?"

"I'm fine," she assured him, testing her balance as she got her feet firmly under her and rose to a standing position. "What did you want to show me?"

"Ah, yes." He walked back around her and into the opposite direction he had gone to look for Jake and his daughter, motioning for her to follow. "A few things. There were three panels here that broke in an odd way, maybe a hailstorm; you can see more of the inner parts of the pane, so I can explain more of how they work. A few techs told me you were interested in such things. I have been trying to decide if I can fix some for half an hour now, and I think some I need to replace. It's over here." He looked over his shoulder at her briefly. In a quieter tone but still a normal range voice, he added, "I also wanted to pass on an apology from a friend of mine; he would have liked to meet you, I gather, but it was too risky for him to visit this continent."

At the change of tone, she debated if this was something the engineer felt sore about, perhaps, or if it were actually significant in some way. Outwardly she stayed calm, but her heart began to beat fast. "Anyone I know?"

"He said you never met directly, but you were rather close to a number of his allies in the war, and that you considered each other allies by the time _Libra_ fell. He fought both armies in that battle."

Butterflies were fluttering in her stomach now and she followed Lao quickly. The only people who had technically fought both armies were those who had been aboard _Peacemillion_, and the one who would have been actively fighting and welcome to asylum in China to escape the price on his head… "Wufei?" she murmured softly, close enough to the engineer's back that he would hear her.

He turned to face her and smiled, nodding. "Engineer Wu Long. He said he wanted to pass a message to you, provided I could do so privately. Discretely." He smiled and squatted to run his hand over one of the many pearlescent tiles. "This is one of his designs, also. Beautiful, isn't she?" Lao shook his head a little, looking wistful. "The boy has such _talent_ with machines… and leaving the war behind for a high calling such has mended him very much."

Relena focused on the layers and perfectly placed mirrored pearl tiles as the realization really sank home, and found herself smiling. That was another of them that confirmed as safe, then, and he was making a staggering contribution to society. She kept track of the competition between the engineers, as she still offered bonuses to the best increases in efficiency; Wu Long's name was behind nearly half of the successful designs and new innovations. A few more pieces clicked too… such as why she had never been allowed to meet the engineers before the two that had been recently sent to Europe. China was keeping their asylum to him secret, but holding up their bargain far better than if they had tried to be open about it.

"That is good to hear. I have only heard back from one other of his old allies, so you can tell him Duo is well, if you like, and that his identity rests safe with me."

Kailì Lao looked up at her and nodded. "He said it would, as long as you heard the news alone." He shook his head a little, braids swaying. "But his new life was not the message; just a way for you to trust. He was convicted of a crime that he does not greatly care about now, but he says it might be important for you to know the truth."

"What crime was not also laid to the other four as well?" Relena asked, confused.

"The murder of Treize Khushrenada, Miss Darlian-Peacecraft," the engineer muttered, lowering his voice even more. "It was never committed. Treize lives."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 24****th**** 198 – Tuesday – The Sahara Desert, Southern Libya – Adashia**

There was a certain casual artistry to be had when crafting false identification. I had learned that I had a natural talent for it when Instructor H had first recruited me, and slipping all the details together had been fulfilling, in a naughty sort of way. I had had various false identification papers since I was four or five and my father began to worry about someone trying to hurt the Winner family through his heir whilst I stayed with this or that sister and her family, but they had always been presented to me finished and perfect. Maybe I had picked up on it so quickly because I picked up the habit of looking for the flaws, drawing comparisons, when I was bored and stuck indoors… but I had always loved my L1 passport, being Katriel Dimardin, mostly just for sentimental reasons. My brother-in-law there had always let me play with his construction MS in the asteroid fields Tamelia had inherited. Of course, once I had proven I had some skill in one my other sisters had let me do similar things, but Anton had pulled me into his lap in the cockpit and taken me out to teach me the first time I came to visit alone when I was five. Piloting was the first thing I really believed I might be good at, growing up, and Anton had indulged me even when I was told it was an inane hobby for a future executive.

I had cried when Tamelia told me it was time to go back to L4, and she had had to pick me up and carry me onto the shuttle while I sobbed my eyes out. I got over it, of course, but it was a while before she invited me back; I think she was worried our father might think she was trying to steal me away from him for her poorer little region of business. Prestige mattered little among my sisters, but she was considered to have married so 'beneath her' that they expected her to try to snatch up opportunities for advancement that the others thought too low to contemplate. For years, in some little part of my mind, I'd wished and waited for my father to maybe pull me into his lap at his desk and show me the papers he spent so much time on, but when I started to ask him too many questions about something, the following week another sister would be there to take me home with her for a month or two.

I wonder sometimes how happy I might have been if Tamelia _had_ taken me. She was one of the ones who had decided to forgo artificial birthing and the risk of pregnancy, so she might have even been able to convince our father that I needed a stable mother figure where she could focus on me as an only child… But at the same time, I know Tamelia, and I wonder if she did try just that and didn't tell me when her ploy failed, in an attempt to stem the fracture of his and my relationship.

In the end, it had been Kilani and her husband who started taking me through the ins and outs of business and strategy, not Zayeed. It had been Amilie who taught me to weave through the dance of politics and social manipulations, Datania who drilled me in Arabic, French, Italian, and Japanese, Courtney and Frederick who always insisted I remember to take time to play with their children, develop hobbies… Tricia who taught me how to be cutthroat yet genteel at the same time and rewarded me only when I was clever and cunning. Our father never had the time, and the rest of them passed me around like the latest accessory. I always adored my sisters, but by the time I was twelve I was so sick of the way they accepted everything and simply told me to give Zayeed time that I began turning down all their invitations and staying stubbornly in my father's line of sight. When nothing changed and my sisters only continued to come and go, and he seemed to make time for each of them for business reasons… I began to wonder if I had any worth at all.

As I grew older it became more and more clear that it had been our mother who had cared, and our father who was more interested in what _use_ each of us had for the corporation… and as supposedly incapable as I had been, in spite of my sisters' coaching, all of my own worth was set in the future. I was an heir, after all, and the man's older children had been more than willing to teach me everything I needed or wished… Apparently there was no reason to bother putting in the effort just because I was his _son_. So I had decided to _give_ the man something to tip off the bloody burden of his responsibility towards me and actively tried to be rebellious… and at every dismissal of 'youthful indiscretion,' I had only grown more and more jaded.

When I ran away at thirteen and managed to be taken hostage by the Maguanacs, I suppose I had just given up entirely. Even after Rashid literally knocked some sense into me and I went home, I never regained any faith in my father; I just decided that my life didn't need to revolve around my family anymore, and it was time to strike out on my own. The fact that Zayeed didn't even notice I was hiding Instructor H on a nearby asteroid and funding the construction of a _gundam_ under his nose, that I was training myself into the ground every moment of the day in preparation for _war_, had only driven the point home further. Considering how much it hurt when he died, I suppose on some level I had still hoped he would one day see me instead of his obligations through me and understand my perspective, that we would one day reconcile and be the kind of family I dreamed about as a child… but when I went home all the fractures had deepened, and when a sister who had always been too busy with schooling to see me very often had died along with him, defending his actions… everything had _shattered_ into a million pieces.

I took a deep breath and tried to redirect my thoughts back to the papers and plastics I had been able to find. I probably needed the time to brood and sort through my emotions after so long of being terrified that if I stopped bottling myself up I would get us all killed, but I didn't like to remember who I had been while I feverishly built Wing Zero. I could never decide if those memories made me want to sob or laugh hysterically or scream myself raw, none of which I really felt the need to indulge in currently. In truth, I had mostly sorted myself out over that before I went to Sanc. No, now I needed to find a way to cope with the time spent carrying Heero across the globe while he actively contemplated blowing a hole in his head every other week… coping with the fact that every time I thought he'd finally do it his sea of emotions swirled into worry and pity and resolution. I needed to decide if I could really live with everything that had happened during those sixteen horrifying months with Cambyses, and if I couldn't, what I might be able to do in order to repent. I seemed to be more balanced and level-headed than I had even come close to hoping for… perhaps I had inherited Heero's talent for hopeful pessimism sometime along the way. What I had done in the colonies was arguably worse than what I had been forced to in the Sahara, but it had been so much more… personal. Visceral. It was one thing to know there had been thousands of people living in that exploding structure, and another entirely to watch the light die in a woman's eyes as she bled out.

…Whoever the fuck Quatre was or would be in the future, I had already decided I could _never_ be Robby again. I needed to bury him and focus on those that had been saved… because unlike when I had slaughtered entire colonies, I _had_ saved people with my actions this time. I had thought I was breaking myself into smaller pieces than I could ever hope to pick up again, but all things considered…

…I wanted to know _why_ it seemed so easy to just keep walking. I was worrying myself sick, waiting for the shock to wear off and the other shoe to drop, but I was starting to wonder if it _would_. It felt like finding Heero again was the first step in understanding this all. He had seemed better, before Cambyses took me… different. Considering how drastically I had been forced to change over the past seventeen months, I couldn't help but wonder if he had continued to stagnate or not.

I had enough in the way of materials and templates that I knew I could craft five nigh flawless passports for a few different countries, six if I was careful, maybe seven if I made no mistakes along the way. Of course, there were twenty-five of us here, but Adashia had been well stocked when we had abandoned it, and it had escaped notice from the scavengers until now; the men had also started to scrounge through the city's ruins, and it was hard to say how much they might find. Whoever stayed behind could live comfortably for up towards a year, and I couldn't imagine it taking more than two or three months to secure solid new identities for them so they could return to the real world without suspicion.

I had old contacts I could revive… I had sisters who had escaped scrutiny because they had been off the records since they married, if not before. Obvious monopolies had a way of upsetting small business, after all, and all of us valued personal privacy very highly. Many of them wouldn't have had to change anything about their lives at all in order to escape Peacecraft's notice – I could smugly imagine his frustration at realizing he could only successfully hunt down four or five of them before all but two of those slipped between his fingers. If nothing else, our father's indulgent neglect taught us to look after each other, and I had no doubt that if they found a hint of me, they would only be too happy to sweep me away as well, if I would let them.

I might have considered it before… but not anymore. No, now I had a score to settle. I had wanted my own life and I had gotten it in the end, for better or worse, and I was going to damn well finish what I had started, or else what was the point of any of it? They would understand that… and I had no doubt that they would back me, especially now that Father was gone. Zechs had done his best to ruin us out of spite to me, and he _had_ ruined the world and so much else. Once I managed to establish safe contact, first with my sisters, then Heero, and the Maguanacs, and the ones who had gone with Colonel Mitchell that still wanted to follow me… I was still only _one_ of the forces moving against him. If I was brutally honest, I doubted he would survive another two or three years; I didn't have nearly as big of a grudge as others.

Whatever Zechs might think of the past two years, this was still only the beginning.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 26****th**** 198 – Thursday – Amsterdam**

Marlé grinned at the view, more than pleased with her perch. Amsterdam was an old city, and from here she could just see the ports as well as a few of the larger buildings around the city and the general ramshackle sprawl… it had character. Most of the cities in Europe did, she had found during her and Odin's travels, and she was finally getting used to the crazed designs in place of the smooth grids she was used to, but they often seemed to each have their own flavor. She hadn't fully made up her mind about Amsterdam yet, beyond that she liked it.

_Now if only Leah hadn't broken the camera. _

She hadn't liked the notion of Odin leaving her behind, but she'd understood, and Moira Srona had already been planning on taking Anne and Leah on a tour around western Europe through the end of the Cambyses campaign. Israel was a little close to the action, after all, and given his reputation, Dr. Srona imagined he might have less reputable patients in greater numbers than he was used to… of a more violent disposition. His sons didn't live in the area, and apparently he and his son-in-law had decided to lock down the Srona's house while they sent the women out of town and stayed at the Moore's condo. As Moira had explained, they would rather come back to a ransacked house than deal with the possible trouble of desperate men… and apparently it had been time for a vacation anyway. Marlé was welcome so long as she didn't mind sharing a bed with her five-year-old granddaughter.

She didn't mind, really, and the family was good company, but… _I suppose I'm not really used to that kind of company,_ she decided. That and since she had started to travel with Odin, she hadn't had a reason to put up with company when it bothered her… And since she was only really used to Odin and her mom anymore, she hit a point where she _had_ to get away from the doting mother, grandmother, and spoiled little girl. The older women didn't seem to mind so long as she wasn't gone for more than two hours without making some kind of contact, which she was grateful for. She would have lost it by now if they had tried to smother her.

Since said five-year-old had managed to snatch and drop the camera, however, Marlé had decided to take it with her with half a mind to find a nice rooftop and see if she could fix it with what tools she had in her pack. That had turned out to be a lost cause, however, as she was in entirely over her head. She was used to phones now, but the electronics on this thing were different… but the view was nice.

At the same time, her stomach informed her it was about time for lunch, and she'd forgotten to find something before trekking up here.

Making a face, she tucked what stuff she had set around her back into her bag and made her way down. This was one of the worse neighborhoods, really, but she'd decided to go see the square where the riot had happened before looking skywards. In any case, she supposed it meant the food was on the cheaper end too, which was just as well. She wasn't wearing anything nice enough to catch notice, and so long as she kept her mouth shut they might not think she was a tourist, just someone from out of town. It gave her a pretty good opportunity to people watch as she figured her stuff out… and she was glad to see that despite the place's reputation, the locals didn't seem to be that depressed.

So much for the veracity of the news, but she'd already known _that_.

There hadn't been anything about Dam Square that stood out, not even a sign to say what had happened last December. She wasn't sure what she had expected, really, but there wasn't even any damage that showed through six months later. It was a very ordinary place on all counts… which only made the whole thing worse, she supposed. If it could happen and disappear so completely from here, chances are it could happen just about anywhere else too.

"Hey! Kid!"

Marlé stopped and blinked down at the man in the khaki militia uniform yelling at… yeah, at her. _Hm. Okay, I deserved that._ Most people didn't appreciate people walking along the tops of walls, she just hadn't been thinking too deeply. Smiling apologetically she carefully dropped down and trotted over to him. "Sorry," she muttered sheepishly in German. "I'm a little lost, and, um…" Thinking quickly, she slung her pack off one shoulder and yanked the smashed camera out of the side pocket. "I was hoping I might see a sign for a repair place." It was as good of an excuse as any, and she might as well get something useful done.

The blonde man's expression turned from irritated to exasperated as he considered her earnest expression, then the very broken mechanism. "What did you _do_ to it?" he asked, sounding a little amused. "Did you use a hammer?"

She snickered at that herself. "Might as well have; my little cousin managed to drop it off the balcony. I think I can save the files on my own, but I was hoping I could maybe get it fixed. It's my grandma's."

He shook his head a little in disbelief, muttering something under his breath in Dutch that she couldn't really follow, before gesturing for her to follow him and starting to walk. "I know a good place near here, if you want. They'll tell you if they can do anything about it before you spend the time or waste money. The price is good too."

"Thanks." She moved after him. "Sorry; you're not going out of your way, are you?"

"I haven't started my shift yet anyway," he dismissed. "My partner and her husband own the place, so I might as well meet her there. They run a good business; good people."

Marlé nodded amiably enough, glad to have avoided the actual issue.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Marlin, Texas – The United States**

Adam still couldn't make up his mind if they were getting good signs or bad ones.

It had taken over two days to scout discreetly through the area and find the bunker entrance without being found by any possible surveillance…. surveillance which it had turned out _didn't_ exist. He wouldn't want to take back the caution even if he could, but this was getting increasingly odd.

The entrance was _sealed_.

That on its own indicated that this was more accidental than anything, but at the same time, it didn't make any actual sense.

It was sealed from the _inside_.

And there was no doubt about it, the radiation was definitely coming from inside.

"…We're going to have to break it open and go in totally cold, aren't we?"

He didn't look away from the door, but he let the ironic amusement he was feeling leak through his tone. "Right in one."

"Joy."

He smirked. "Well, hardly a 'hallelujah.'"

Hilde snickered. "Shit, just don't get me killed, that's all I'm asking."

He raised both brows, glancing back at the woman. "That's a lot to ask."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sadly used to that attitude, you realize."

He grinned at that, then shrugged, motioning at the door. "I'm confused by this, honestly."

"Comforting, Adam. Very comforting."

"I try," he returned blandly.

She snickered again, coming up to stand next to him, her hands deep in her coat pockets. "Thankfully, I'm still a daredevil… and this is weird, but it could be worse."

"Definitely."

"You're sure it might not be a better idea to just ditch it, though?"

He sighed. "Any projections I've managed to get done for the effect of even one nuclear blast here vary wildly with the atmosphere as is, let alone six. With the storm patterns, and the fact that so many people _are_ still alive out here, not even going into the fact that we might be able to come back to the Americas in force in a decade or two… the risk to us is still reasonably low, from what we've found."

She sighed and nodded. They were both silent for a minute or so before she shifted her weight. "What are the chances of other entrances that aren't sealed?"

"Very likely," he admitted. "But we're not going to be able to find them, from what I could work out of the design. They're supposed to be secluded and hidden… and there's enough collapsed structures here that we could look for weeks."

Hilde nodded again as though she expected that response. "I kinda figured. You can see what's leftover from a big fire that swept through a while ago… maybe a hurricane or two. In some ways, we're lucky we found this one as fast as we did." It was his turn to nod in agreement. She sighed exaggeratedly. "Well, let's go back to camp and get our last guaranteed night of sleep, then. If there's no cameras, we might as well figure this shit out while it's daylight."

"Yeah."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Burgas, Bulgaria**

"That," Noin noted happily as she dropped her bag on the bed, "Had to be one of the smoothest operations I've been party to since… I turned seventeen."

Odin nodded agreeably, moving to check the bathroom to see if it had a bath, more out of habit than anything else. He hadn't pushed his leg past its capacity for a while now, but he found himself always planning for it. On some level it still stung that he had to plan around such a strong weakness, but that was the same part of him that had once been upset when he failed to successfully die in the course of a mission, so he didn't lend it very much credence. In any case, it was more a case of habit and contingency, knowing himself and his available resources, not a need. He could make just about anything he needed of a situation if it came to it, but he'd gotten to like the idea of actual preparation since he had first fallen to Earth in Operation M; it didn't seem to take as much trouble and effort as he used to think.

It had been a relatively good week, all things considered. Xutao Chang and Schbeiker were in America… with Trowa, which was something to look into. It made more sense why the pattern of evasion, when 'Adam' and Xutao had been running from Treize's men last year, had seemed so familiar. Lucrezia had refrained from giving him the details, but that was within her choices, and he could only admit to curiosity, not true interest. Trowa would make sure that any problem further west was handled effectively, or he would make it clear that he couldn't. Even with his memory gone, Odin doubted that aspect of the other pilot had changed.

"I want to shower before we go get food and act innocent for the evening," Noin announced, pulling a clear bag with various bottles in it out of her pack. "With my hair this long, though, I take more time than I used to, so you can go first."

"I prefer to wash before sleeping," Odin returned easily, dropping his own bag on the bed and undoing the laces. Recovered or not, it helped him sleep easier to loosen the muscles as much as possible. "Tell me if the hot water runs out early." He hated it when that happened, and since this room only had a shower, it wasn't so easy as with a tub. He would likely take far longer than Noin, no matter the length of her hair.

"Suit yourself," she returned cheerfully, not looking up as she gathered a change of clothes. "Good work today, really. I won't take long." She grinned broadly when he nodded easily again and strode purposefully for the bathroom, locking the door behind her. A moment later, the sound of the water started.

He liked Noin; she didn't bother trying to press social… politeness. She showed courtesy, respect, and genuine emotion, and didn't try to fit anyone into a mould that suited her better. He had noticed it in Sanc, but had assumed it was at Relena's request and her own need of his cooperation in the kingdom's defense. Now that he had spent more time with her, he realized that easygoing acceptance was a part of her personality.

It was nice to not have any… expected 'role' pressed on him.

Retrieving his laptop, he settled at the desk provided by the hostel and began making sure no trace of his illegal presence had been found on the base he had visited earlier that day. He was assured that his work had been nearly flawless, but he had learned the hard way that a single inconsistency could unravel an entire plot, and caution had a way of balancing his skills. There was no reason for the Regime to suspect his infiltration, but as he had the time, there was no reason not to be sure every step had been perfect.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Amsterdam**

_"Danke,"_ Marlé muttered again as she ducked in the doorway of the shop, biting back a sigh as the militia man followed her. She intended to do exactly as she had told him, but still, she didn't like to have someone who had seen her act inappropriately at her back. It was doubtful, but there was always the chance that someone might recognize her despite her longer blonde hair and how she had aged, if they thought about it long enough. Despite being almost thirteen, she still hadn't started her period and hadn't grown in any way except maybe height, and that was a definite _maybe_. Her mother had said that fewer people would be likely to draw similarities between her and her photograph once she started to gain a woman's figure, but there was little sign of _that_ happening anytime soon.

A brown-haired boy a little older than her looked up and smiled when he saw her. _"Goedemiddag."_

She smiled at him, stepping forward with Moira's camera, and decided to go with English; most of the locals here were fluent, and she wasn't sure she would be able to go over the technical details she needed to on what she'd figured out in German. "Hi. Could you take a look at this for me?"

"Of course." He focused on the man who had come in with her briefly and raised his brows. "Melissa took Rina to work; she won't come back before going to meet you."

He cursed and turned quickly to leave. Marlé turned slightly to watch him leave, debating if she was bothered that he hadn't said anything, before glancing back at the boy. He shrugged and rolled his eyes a little, so she smiled. "I'm Marlé."

"I am Amos. Welcome to New Renew. Sorry for Daron; he can be rude." Picking up the camera, he frowned. "What…"

"I _so_ had nothing to do with it," she protested immediately.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany**

Relena looked up as Jake's phone rang, glancing back in the direction of the bathroom. He was taking Dorothy out to the clubs again tonight, and was getting ready. When he didn't immediately come out at the sound of the phone, she reached over and picked it up, looking at the caller ID, before smiling and answering it. "Hello, David. It's good to hear from you."

"Hey, Lena," her old bodyguard returned tiredly. "You're having a good evening, I hope?"

"Boring, but productive," she returned, standing up. "You sound exhausted."

He snorted humorlessly. "'Exhausted' was a few days ago. There has to be a better term for what I am now, but I can't seem to think of one."

She smiled empathetically as she moved into the bathroom. "I'm sorry to hear that." Dorothy was up at one of the vanities, doing God only knew what with her make-up, and Jake was nowhere in sight, but the door down to the master suite was open. Starting down the stairs, she asked, "Will it be over with soon?"

He sighed heavily. "Not as soon as I could hope, but we're making progress. Listen, Lena, it's wonderful to hear your voice, you're a balm on my soul, but-"

"I'm looking for him," she assured her friend. "You called his phone, David, not mine, there's no need for the flattery."

"I would _much_ rather be there with you," he returned earnestly. "I'd be lounging on some couch in that decadent house of yours."

"Well, you're certainly welcome to, when you have the time." Moving out of the walk-in closet, she didn't see anyone, but her colonel's shoji screens were shielding his corner of the room. "Jake?"

"Just a moment," he called back quickly. "That David?"

"The very same," she agreed warmly. Hitting the mute, she added seriously, "I think he could really use some company, Jake, he sounds awful." She pressed the button again; hopefully Mitchell wouldn't have noticed she had done it at all.

The blonde colonel moved around the screens in the same form-fitting pants he wore each time he took Dorothy out on the town and an undershirt he was still tugging down to his waist. He held out his hand for the phone and she handed it to him before heading over to her nightstand, forcing her movements to be casual. There was something to be said about that outfit… or really about Jake in general, if she were honest… but it struck her as a poor idea, especially now. She'd gotten over her silly little crush on him before; she could work around the newer attraction worming its way around her chest. If her bodyguard had noticed it yet, he had the grace to not be obvious about it in turn. He had been very good about that the first time around too, for which she was grateful. It was only worse this time for the fact that she knew him far better.

In any case, if he was almost finished dressing, she could lock him and Dorothy in the bathroom in a minute and change into her pajamas; she still had work to do, but now that the sun had gone down there wasn't any reason to stay in the pantsuit she had worn all day. She could change and make some tea for herself before finishing the last of the authorizations on today's work requests, then maybe take up Mai on her offer of watching a movie. Something good and mindless sounded perfectly wonderful, right then, and for once she didn't have to be up early tomorrow. She hadn't really considered movies in some time, but Mailin had been more than happy to remind her of "the values of periodic vegetative states" and find something sweet enough to chase all the menfolk on the base away. Mu had claimed disinterest as well, but Relena had found that in her free time, the American woman tended to bury herself in massively-sized paperback novels, not anything from the more popular media.

She liked to have Mu at hand when she was working; there was a calming sort of kinship about the other woman's presence, and they settled into a comfortable silence. She greatly enjoyed Mai's company too, but in an opposite sort of way; the Australian woman had a way of distracting her from morose moods the way Jake could, and firmly believed in indulging for the sake of stress relief. She didn't slack off, but she certainly did her best to live it up too. Mai didn't much believe in doing anything partway.

It was good to have other women around again, she had decided. The shift in company wasn't something she had entirely realized she missed, or at least, that she hadn't realized she missed so much as she truly had.

The conversation between the two colonels quickly turned to Japanese, but that was normal, for them; neither of them liked to have personal conversations where they might be heard, and they spoke the Asian language fast enough that you had to be truly fluent to follow it, which she wasn't. Jake had teased her a little for it, because having lived in Japan for so long growing up, she really _ought_ to know more than she did, but she couldn't change the past. Focusing on her vanity mirror, she considered her hair as she listened and tried to see if she could catch just a word here or there. It needed a trim soon… idly she debated if she ought to try a different style. It was getting blonder and blonder the same as Jake's was doing, with how often they had been out in the fields and even on top of the amplifiers themselves…

She still needed to tell Dorothy about Wufei. She was the only one she felt she _could_ share the information with, at this point, but the opportunity to talk to her without Jake nearby had yet to come up, and she didn't trust the other woman not to react at least somewhat theatrically, so Jake needed to not be in even the same building if she could help it. He had a way of putting things together from the most minimal details.

She wanted to be able to trust him with this kind of information the way she did everything else, but the fact was, the risk he might give the information to her brother was still relatively high. He might not, so long as she asked, but as well as she knew him now, she also knew he was an excellent liar, and she would hardly have any reason to convince him to keep a secret for her in contrast to his loyalty to a childhood friend. He had been more than willing to flout Milliardo so far, but he _believed_ in the reasoning and necessity perhaps even more strongly than she did. He had helped Zechs actively hunt the gundam pilots after _Libra_ fell, and she knew exactly how resourceful her colonel was when he set his mind to something; she was _not_ about to open that can of worms if she was anything less than perfectly sure. She couldn't guarantee he _wouldn't_ be able to do something to Wufei despite the lack of proof and the distance and the pure political nightmare it would be. Jake, by his own confession, knew how to kill politicians in broad daylight and get away with it, let alone an accused criminal with a bounty on his head.

And Treize… that still made her head spin. She didn't even want to think of what Jake might think of that. The general was easily his oldest companion, second only to his dead family. The Khushrenadas had taken him in as a child… Treize had once trusted him to look after his lover and hidden _daughter_ on a regular basis. If he had been left out of the loop on this, he would feel betrayed, and she didn't know whose loyalty he would choose if she wanted to ally with Khushrenada. And if he already knew… If Jake _did_ know about Treize…

She needed to talk to Dorothy just to try to sort this all out, if nothing else. She didn't dare trying to write it down to organize her thoughts the way she normally might; either Jake would stumble across it on accident or notice she was trying to hide something and seek it out and find it. She needed to decide on her options before that could happen.

_"Iie."_

His tone was more… final… than it usually was when he spoke with his friend.

_"Iie,"_ he repeated in the same monotone, launching into another string of sentences in the same voice, stopping… then seeming to cut off whatever Mitchell was saying with another retort, his voice growing colder.

They were arguing.

It took her a moment to discern why that notion seemed so ominous. She had heard the two men disagree before, sometimes vastly… but never had they sounded _upset_ with each other, the way Jake did now. It also wasn't like him to give David a hard time when he was feeling so down…

Quickly pulling her pajamas out of the drawer, she headed back up the stairs and went to stand by Dorothy. "Can I talk to sometime tomorrow, just you and I? Maybe we could spend some time in the sauna." There was a distinct lack of clothing involved in that idea that barred Jake any entry.

Dorothy eyed her shrewdly, nodding. "That sounds wonderful. It should be fine so long as it's before you go have dinner with that redheaded bitch, anyhow."

Relena rolled her eyes, but really, after the past few days, she ought to have expected that. "Yes, Thea, most people don't have dinner during the morning hours." At this point, she was just ignoring the insults directed at Olivia, and seeing if the Romefeller heiress would lay off if she didn't get a response. Knowing the other woman as she did, Relena doubted the tactic would work, but had decided it was a good preliminary action in any case.

"I won't wake before noon; I'm going to be out all night."

"Thea, I don't need to leave until after five, I'll spend some time with you before that, I promise." She was fairly sure that it really just boiled down to base jealousy, and it was a good idea to try to smooth the blonde's ruffled feathers even if she didn't need her confidence. "Promise me you will, please?" A touch of humility often worked wonders.

She only shrugged, but she looked happier than two seconds ago. "I promise."

"Thank-you." After another moment's deliberation, she moved into Dorothy's rooms and shut the door to change. She wanted to just get her work done with already, so maybe her head could stop spinning long enough that she could try to tease apart the latest puzzle set in front of her. _Maybe I ought to give in and let Mai try mixing me a drink._ It was starting to sound like a good idea if she actually still wanted her mindless evening.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**June 28****th**** 198 – Saturday – Marlin, Texas**

"Ready?"

"Well, they haven't blown us all to kingdom come yet, we might as well finish," Hilde muttered tightly. Sweat was dripping down her face.

"Stop being a bitch," Xutao snapped. He didn't look any better… or feel it, by his language.

"Stop being an utter dick, first. I maintain my bitch skills with pride, motherfucker."

"Let's just open it," Adam told them tiredly. The two rebels complimented each other's skill sets well, but over the past week he had seriously begun to wonder at the wisdom of pairing them together under _any_ circumstance. They managed to get any job he set them done smoothly, but he was at the point of simply waiting for the bickering to escalate into outright violence. If it weren't for the fact that nothing had actually happened so far, he would already be questioning Sally Po's sanity; apparently they were regular _partners_.

He wasn't sure if he was amused or not that he was positive that Chang wasn't lying at all when he told him those stories about crap Hilde had done to piss him off. To hear him talk, it must be her favorite hobby – and to hear her talk, it was decently high on her list of priorities. He was beginning to think they had been partnered just for the sake of comic relief, but he was still debating if that was quite within Sally's brand of humor.

Having just spent hours trying to sear, blast, and hammer their way into the bunker entrance, however, he couldn't blame them for short tempers; he would personally like to lay down and sleep for a few hours, but he didn't like the notion of how vulnerable they would be if he did. This was dangerous enough already; they might as well finish what they had started.

"On three."

It actually took far more attempts than a simple count to three, so he supposed it was closer to a count of twenty, and at one point he got frustrated and took the blowtorch to it again, but after another thirty minutes of leveraging, cursing, and grinding more grime into their bodies, they forced the hinge open enough that they were finally able to swing it open. What they saw inside, though…

"Oh my _fucking_ God, you've got to be fucking _kidding_ me…"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Sudan**

"True, but if it had been set up like that, then my route would have been this way," Odin explained patiently, pointing to a different entrance on the schematic. "You'll need to do more than that."

The tech grimaced and nodded, muttering under his breath. "Shit. Alright, thanks… give me a bit and I'll see what I can work up… I'll call the general when we have something new for you to try to break. You're supposed to stay for another few days, right?"

"Three," the ex-pilot agreed, standing up fully and flexing the individual muscles in his right leg as he settled the whole of his weight back on it, favoring his left to test its strength. It was still fine, though it was sore after his last hour's work. The security measures on this base were stronger than Noin had credited them, which she would be glad to hear; he had been able to make his way in, but it had taken more effort than they expected. Still, there were gaps they could reasonably fill, if they were pointed out.

He left the room without saying anything more to the tech who was already happily ignoring him, staring at his diagrams while biting one lip. Hopefully that was a 'thinking' pose for him, and not the lost and frustrated, frantic one that emergency room occupants tended to get. The two could be… more difficult to tell apart than the other expressions he had begun to master.

In any case, it wasn't really Odin's problem. Noin would be in one of three places; she would want to hear what he had encountered through him. It was difficult to say exactly how long this base would continue to stay hidden with the Regime recovering the northern Africa land routes, and for all that its location was a political hotbed, that didn't mean that Zechs might not make an attempt on an obvious enemy stronghold. Additionally, despite the physical isolation it had in common with the Carpathian base, this Blue Nile stronghold was not hidden, only assumed empty, and had nearby populations.

As Noin had noted, it was either perfect or a nightmare waiting to happen, and she was determined to keep it from becoming the latter. The situation was… reminiscent of Sanc.

"Wicked…"

"Aren't you glad she's on our side?"

Odin paused in the doorway of the room they had the simulators in, considering the four young men raptly watching the performance display readout. The cockpit shell on the machine itself was closed with someone inside…

"Did you think she led our battles because she couldn't perform?" asked a man in the more casual upper echelon Maguanac dress from where he leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the corner. His tone was dryly amused.

That answered Odin's question. Entering the room quietly, he veered wide of the group and went to stand by… Abdul. The taller man nodded at him slightly but didn't otherwise alter his casual stance, so he nodded back and crossed his arms, settling himself to wait. Noin had said that she hadn't even met a most of the recruits here, since they were mostly recruited by the Maguanac Corps, and had mentioned the she might have to show off a bit. The air routes had remained open since _Libra_ even if the amount of traffic had drastically reduced, but with the rise of the Cambyses, the land and in some areas even the water routes through the Sahara had officially closed down, which reduced the ways to sneak through significantly.

"I hope that limp is Raquel's fault," Abdul murmured conversationally after a moment. "It would be proof of at least some promise."

That… was annoying. He had hoped that that might go unnoticed; it made him wonder if Abdul's eyes were sharp, or others had simply chosen not to remark upon it, instead of not noticing. "It's not as bad as you worried."

"That _is_ good to hear." He gestured towards the rest of the room. "It's been quiet, lately, so it has been harder to say how they progress. We're getting the occasional stragglers from the north, but nothing close to home for some time. When you've laid down such a large amount of preparation, but it remains untried…" He shrugged.

Odin nodded. Considering the crowd, he asked, "They can pilot?"

"I cannot claim to be an instructor so fine as Lucrezia, but I've honed the skills of more than a few pilots in my time," he returned in a pleased tone. "They aren't bad; enough to be worth letting them try themselves on a battlefield by now. The blonde there, Celise, I've considered sending to Lu, but I need her here to challenge the others. Her older brother, Errane, coaches her and two others nearly every moment he can spare, and he was one of the best that came from the L4 cluster with us six years ago. I let him choose his students, while I take them all; the heart he puts into it shows, and the family blood runs true, it seems." He adjusted his glasses slightly, looking down. "I have another three I started to work with not long before _Libra_ who could possibly match Master Rashid now, and twelve more between the two groups."

Odin refocused on the group and singled out Celise; with her close-cropped hair, she hadn't stood out from the men. She probably would as soon as she spoke, but he had yet to hear a female voice.

"If you don't mind my asking, Lucrezia has mentioned you have an apprentice? Not her words, but the little she said…"

He had never really considered Marlé in those terms, but it was accurate enough. "Yes." He didn't offer anything more than that, and after a moment, Abdul grinned and nodded respectfully before focusing back on his students.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Amsterdam**

"It's so _cute_," Melissa exclaimed as she shut the door behind her and went to flop on the futon next to her husband.

Duo grinned back at her, wrapping one arm around her. "He's old enough for a girlfriend, right?"

The Dutch woman snickered. "He's innocent for your average fifteen-year-old, but I should hope."

"I don't know if I would say that," Duo mused. He didn't entirely agree with the 'average' age for some things that seemed to be a given in the Netherlands. "And anyway, from what I've heard over the past few days they're far more interested in picking each other's brains than making out." Which was probably a blessing. He had no idea where the little blonde girl had come from, beyond the fact that she was foreign, technically inclined, and spoke English as a first language. Amos was so excited about someone to practice English with that he seemed to have entirely forgotten that Duo _hadn't_ grown up speaking Dutch.

Melissa and Karina had both agreed that whether or not Amos had consciously realized it, his excitement with the girl had far more to do with the cute female end of things than the English.

His wife shrugged a little. "She's a rich little traveler from what I can tell, in any case; she's leaving town tomorrow. It might get a little weird if they were more into it." Duo closed his eyes. He hadn't even _thought_ of that… And Melissa giggled again. "Oh calm down, he's getting help with his homework, and he gets to chatter about fixing stuff while she listens avidly. It's win-win, and at any rate it should help his self-confidence without any long-term worries."

"Mm." He was going to have to remember to offer to help the kid with his homework once the girl was back out of town in any case. He'd overheard Amos say he was worried he might _fail_ the damn language class, he couldn't believe the he might have actually forgotten 'Kay' was fluent. He really hoped the boy was exaggerating to try to get the girl's attention, but he knew Amos well enough to realize he really might not have thought to try that trick.

"She's an odd one, though… Daron was on and on about her being as comfortable with heights as a cat. Is that a colonial thing?"

"…What?"

Melissa raised both brows. "Her passport says she's from the L2 cluster, and Daron says he came across her wandering along a wall like it was a sidewalk. That's the kind of thing you wouldn't think twice about doing if you were distracted enough."

Duo frowned. "Most colonial gravities are lower than on Earth, so heights aren't as frightening, but by the same token, she ought to feel more worried about the stronger tug of the planetside gravity." Most people, when they came down to Earth, were a little nervous of their footing at first. "I suppose if she's been planetside for a while, though…" That didn't actually add to the logic in either direction, to be honest; most people didn't like walking on top of walls anywhere you went. It took a certain type of personality and confidence, as well as practice, and it either would or wouldn't happen in either place.

A thought occurred to him. "Should I go be sociable?"

"No point, really," Liss reassured him.

No reason to bother them, then.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Sudan Base**

"You might be surprised," Noin returned to the cadets' compliments earnestly. "To be honest, that maneuver requires more guts and confidence than skill, and with the simulators, learning is risk-free. You won't be allowed on the field if you're above a certain ratio for damages, but there's too much you can perfect in the sims that you could never think to even try in a real suit; I've never agreed with the commanders who punish students for being reckless in VR."

A few of the rookie pilots seemed to disbelieve her, while others bit one lip or shook their heads; only two seemed to take it to heart with a calculating look. Odin noted that the girl Abdul had pointed out was one of those two.

Noin didn't miss the looks either. "Hey, everyone starts somewhere, alright? Nobody's a natural right off the bat; the modern piloting system just isn't the intuitive type. It takes time, and plenty of hard work; I sure as hell didn't get as far as I am by goofing off." She glanced back in Abdul's direction and met eyes with Odin briefly, then to the clock. "I was in there longer than I said I would be, wasn't I? Sorry for taking your time; get back to work. Whoever's next up on this machine, go." The male that had looked like he thought he could do more quite literally launched himself into the cockpit, to the protest of at least two others. Their commander shook her head and headed over to her guest. "Please tell me you haven't been here long."

"Only a few minutes."

"That sounds promising, at any rate."

"Your head of security said he'd call you when he found something else for me to break." He realized that the group of students seemed to be more watching them and gossiping than getting back to work, but Abdul could see that just as easily and was obviously ignoring it.

She grinned. "That sounds like him. Did he-"

"God, if only she _hadn't_ let Peacecraft have the title…"

Lucrezia trailed off when she heard the name, cutting herself off.

"There was a hell of a lot more to it than that, man…"

"Well yeah, but she's so much better than him that, shit, would he have really ever gotten off the ground in the first place? He got his reputation because he graduated top of the class, right? Then Treize took him on a handful of missions and coined him with that 'Lightning Count' nickname, and he got taken on more and more shit after that while everyone forgot about her back at Lake Victoria. Try switching them out: what if _he_ had been forgotten?"

Abdul shifted slightly but didn't otherwise move, choosing instead to watch Noin. Odin decided that if the Maguanac was choosing noninterference, that was probably the best option for himself as well, though he kept his eyes on the blonde young man who was… on a roll, it seemed. His list of 'what if' situations was going on as he reran scenario after scenario throughout the war… and the others were listening. The door on the virtual reality cockpit hadn't shut yet despite the boot up having had enough time by now... and only Celise and another of the seven had seemed to realize that they had caught their general's attention.

He wondered if their hearing was compromised, or if they were just stupid.

"Well, it doesn't really make sense anyway. Maybe she just had an off day, okay? Everyone goes on like she threw the exams on purpose, but look at the guy, hey? Hell, maybe he _sabotaged_ her, I mean, this is Marquise, he's not exactly a figurehead of integrity."

Lucrezia closed her eyes and her mouth pressed into a firm line as her hands balled into fists.

Celise took a firm backwards step away from the group, then another. Abdul remained entirely impassive.

"Nobody has _that_ bad of a day; it wouldn't have happened out the way it did if their scores were actually neck and neck, especially seeing as they _were_ up until then. There were over thirty people in their class, _everyone_ knew, and records say she even got called on it, she just kept her mouth shut and no one could prove it if she denied it."

"Why would anyone do that, though?"

"Because some people have the common sense to prioritize," Noin snapped coldly, finally turning around to glare at them.

They all froze, realizing they were caught out… rather late, in Odin's opinion. If you only realized after the hammer dropped, then you probably needed the beating.

"Prioritize?" The man's confusion was… very definite.

"Consider what you want in life," she ordered in a dangerous tone. "Fame or security? Adventure or safety? Politics or honesty? Comfort or notoriety? Glory, or moral sanction? Regret, or absolution?" She tilted her head slightly, walking towards them. "Instead of blindly following goals set before you, realize what each road will offer you. Will you be happy? Will you remember how to laugh and cry? Will you want to remember anything you've done at all, let alone tell your grandchildren the story? Will you live to have children?" She sneered. "Will anyone want to _have_ your children? Will you still even believe in the comfort of another human being, or will you only wish death on yourself?

"Make sure you realize your responsibilities before they slap you in the face; know your repercussions, good and bad, before they cripple you. Don't live so completely on a dream that you couldn't move on if it died in front of you. Don't live so far in the future that you look at your past and present and ask yourself _why_, because if you need to take the time to think, the time to walk away has already come and passed."

She shook her head. "Get out, and think fucking hard about what you _want_ before you come back here." Turning her gaze slowly over all of them, lingering on Celise as well, she added, "If your own damn happiness isn't somehow at the top of that list, don't come back; I won't think any less of you if you don't.

"And consider one last thing while you're at it: when has being the "best" at anything ever made someone _happy_? Truthfully, just by itself, honest to goodness joyful at being alive? Because frankly, I've seen a lot of people try, and I've yet to find a single victor willing to let satisfaction get in the way of ambition.

"Now get out of my sight."

They scattered. Noin stood watching after them for a long moment, then sighed. "I'm taking a walk." She didn't look back. Abdul shrugged and moved away from the wall to shut down the computers.

Odin stayed where he was, considering the tight ball of emotions crowding his chest. The idea of moving didn't appeal, just yet… The motion might help it slip away, if he didn't pick it apart first.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Vulkanus – Space, Barge ruins**

Treize considered the woman before him as he entered the observation deck. Slightly younger than himself, he would admit some similarity to himself in that she used her age not as a shield, but to intimidate. No one enjoyed facing the newest generations; after all, if a person could accomplish so much in the first twenty-four years of their lives, when most of that was arguably devoted to childhood, what could they do in the following decades? In his opinion, the old men of their time had only made it as far as they had due to the state of constant fighting that Romefeller had been so keen to perpetuate. When there were battles to fight, the majority of young men rushed to the front lines, and the favorites were safely kept at home and groomed to follow in tradition's footsteps. There was, after all, no reason to break a system that worked in your favor. It was probably based on these lines of logic that he had been allowed so much leeway through his own teen years. No one had seen OZ as anything more than the latest fad for the noble's sons who wanted battlefield glory. What the constantly perpetuated wars didn't eradicate were only fools trying to preen their feathers.

They hadn't planned for a man with his vision or drive to change the cycle. Stagnation, however profitable, came with a price.

"Most would consider this sight depressing," he announced once he had waited long enough that she was sure to have noticed him. "Yet I always seem to find you here."

"I find it nostalgic," she admitted smoothly, not looking back in his direction. "What happened here was tragic, but the familiarity of home has a way of winning you over. I waited and waited for the beauty of Earth to grow on me, as everyone said it would, but in truth, I can't say I acquired a taste for horizons." She turned towards him and smiled, green eyes shining, before looking back out the window and trailing one hand along the transparent plastic. Her smooth gold ring clicked softly upon contact. "It gives me hope to see something so sad made into something useful. I come here to watch and see if I can spot your men when they train. Glimmers of movement in the darkness… I find them far more elegant than the fireflies around my father-in-law's estate. There's a team out there now, I believe."

Treize smiled back, moving to stand beside her. "I never considered it, but I can see the similarities," he decided after a moment. "However, as an avid lover of both nature's beauty and humanity's creations, I find myself torn at trying to rank them."

"The plight of the Earthborn," Belle said in her neutral way of agreement that Treize was becoming more accustomed to. "In the end, scenery is merely scenery; it is the people within that makes me treasure this. I find the nature of space more… honest… than that of the planet."

"It is what it is," Treize agreed. "It offers no mask for its cruelty."

"Yes. That's it exactly."

Having only been back in space for a handful of days himself, Treize was still unsure of where he stood with one of his new allies. Belle Blaine was carefully _bland_, for lack of a better word, but not in a fashion that lacked for personal flair. Instead, it was more that she was quiet and withdrawn… and while amenable to conversation, she was not the type to actively seek it. She dressed simply and left her hair to hang loose to her elbows, and… didn't argue with anyone over anything. She didn't start conversation, for all that she didn't seem to mind it either.

Belle was something of an enigma, if only a mild one. Most people chose ambassadors with far more… force. In its own odd light, however, the shift of tactics kept him off balance, and that was likely just as intended. Mrs. Blaine was difficult to read, past basic facial expressions.

"Less than a week now," she murmured. "Are they ready?"

"Doubtlessly."

"How unfortunate." She met his eyes sidelong, her gaze flat. "I would rather it was only us prepared, but I doubt that Peacecraft's men feel any differently than your own, at this point. It's a great loss to have waited so long, or with the disrupted timing, at least."

Inwardly he agreed, but he could not have helped what happened. It would have been better to coordinate with Po and her people, but she had never given him an opportunity. Instead, they would simply have to stay outside of the other's sphere of influence to avoid future problems. "I'm afraid that April was simply too soon to move and still have worthy assurances."

"I wholeheartedly agree," she returned simply. "I only find myself wishing that the footing were less… equal, than it appears to be. We can afford a war of attrition better than our enemy, but expenses add up all the same. The less time we can spend in that stage, the better." She met his eyes again, long sandy brown bangs trailing across one cheek. "Has the evening post allowance begun yet?"

"We have twenty minutes more," Treize reassured her. Mail or any communication to the remote base was sent in mass packets coupled with a time allowance for real-time outside communication. "Are you expecting a message?"

"Always," she promptly dismissed. "But hardly an urgent one. No, I was considering calling my son… his grandmother likely has him finishing his dinner right now. Perhaps I could sing to him as he lies down. The timing comes out about right for it maybe three times a week, and I try to catch them all. Heather is stepping in for him as a mother until we're past all this, and I trust my husband's mother enough for his safety and a helping hand, but every baby knows his mother's face and voice. They say he sleeps better after I sing to him."

"He will be three soon, correct?"

"In October." Smiling again, staring out at the forever night, she mused, "I wonder if he will prefer blue skies too, when he's older. He was born under them, after all." She pursed her lips for a moment, seeming to hesitate. "I'm sorry we've had no progress finding your own child, Treize. The only comfort I can offer is that if you are correct in your assumption that someone is protecting her, they are doing the job well. Your photographs of Leia Barton will bear fruit eventually in either scenario; we know enough of her adult facial structure and that of her family's that aging her image appropriately wasn't a far reach. It's a shame that you only know she went into medicine, not the field or position."

"She wanted to be a doctor," Treize murmured, though he knew the brunette already knew the information by heart. "But she would go through phases where she wasn't sure she would go through with it. The last time I heard from her, Dekim was taking Mariemaia away from her just so she could go to medical school full time, but that was…" He shook his head, marveling over the lost years. "That was six years ago, in 192. If she kept at it without break, she would be done with school, of course, but the length of a residency varies widely… and then, if she went about her coursework more slowly, the timing becomes blurry. Then there are the factors of if she decided to do something else after all."

"Hence why we are looking at newly established physicians first, but also at residents and students, and the entirety of medical populace made up of women in their mid to late twenties." She shrugged slightly. "In the end, it's the only viable approach to take. We are starting by screening hospitals and practices and of course the governmentally employed for similarities and just running from there. Age and gender easily more than halve the original sample size, but it will still take time." She tilted her head towards one shoulder, looking towards him out of the corner of her eye. "Especially as we do not want to move quickly enough to alert anyone, including her; she has no reason to think we are not those who would do her harm. The colonies are nearly as numerous as the stars in the sky, and frankly, we have more urgent priorities for the time being. If she is alive, it can be assumed that she has made herself safe."

"This is all true," Treize agreed coolly. He had run his own mind through circle after circle and long since came to the same conclusion.

"I admire that you refuse to divert the resources away from her search, all the same," Belle added, offering him a sweet smile. "Speaking as a woman, I can tell you that she will appreciate it."

"Thank-you."

She nodded slightly, moving away from him. "It was a pleasure to speak with you, Treize. I imagine I will see you tomorrow. Good night; I pray you sleep well."

Treize smiled and offered the noblewoman his own smile and a slight bow. Her tendency to immediately use his first name was slightly disconcerting, as few enough did it, but it well within her rights. "You as well, Mrs. Blaine."

_oOo_

* * *

**_oOo_**

**_End Altered Insight_**

**_oOo_**

* * *

** For the record, the word "iie" is Japanese for "no". It occurred to me that I just know that, and Relena, having lived in Japan for the majority of her life would know that, so I couldn't think of a good way to add in her thinking that without it sounding stupid, but I do realize that not everyone watches subbed anime as religiously as I do. **

** Thoughts? I rather enjoyed the Noin's speech, personally, and thought it was about time that Relena started to wonder about a few of her bodyguard's details; it seems… very like her that she doesn't actually distrust him, despite realizing that her perception might be entirely compromised. Kailì was fun, Quatre's childhood more telling than I expected it to be, and Marlé… Marlé is trying to make everything just blow up in my face for shits and giggles, I swear. **

** There's actually going to be a fair bit of action next chapter: battles properly beginning – along with the consequent collateral damage – more revelation, espionage, and generally everything trying damn hard to go to hell in a hand basket even as you find new clever ways to circumvent the unavoidable. I'll try not to take forever this time. I actually held onto this for a while with the intention of having the next half written so the wait time between them would be less, but then my Da took a job offer out of state, and I need to move out as of tomorrow because he's selling the house too, and it's pure insanity here to the point that I might not get through for a while, if I'm honest. Please accept sincere apologies, and the note that I'm trying. I really **_**really**_** am trying… and this was also 32 pages long. Does that count for anything?**


	7. Revival

_**Revival**_

_"No witchcraft, no enemy action had silenced the rebirth of new life in this stricken world. The people had done it themselves." _

_– Rachel Carson_

* * *

**oOo**

**Alright, here we go… This would have been out a lot sooner, but a full-time job while doing full-time school is insane, and then I broke my hand, which puts a crimp in typing, to be sure…**

* * *

**July 1****st**** 198 – Tuesday – Sudan Base**

Odin twitched sharply when the base klaxon started to wail, and ground his teeth as he sloshed hot coffee down the front of his shirt. Growling, he set the cup down on the counter and moved briskly to the door, heading for the control room. There weren't supposed to be any drills or tests today, he had thought. The base personnel he passed in the hall seemed to be responding to the sound fairly well, quickly but calmly going to their assigned stations… Nothing out of the ordinary, or at least, nothing they hadn't been drilled into boredom over. It was a sign of a well-trained group; the Alliance regulars had always had something of a tendency to mill and yell ridiculously.

When he reached his destination, however, there was no missing the distinct taste of panic in the air, or the mass of blips on the radar readout approaching their perimeter.

Abdul's jaw was tight, and his arms were crossed as he stared at the readouts. Noin stood near him, and was talking briskly to two different men, asking logistics, response times… Odin focused on the tech he had mostly been working with over the past few days who appeared to be furiously focused, and went to stand over his shoulder. After a moment, he frowned. "Move."

"Busy, Yuy…"

He backhanded him upside the head and while the man gasped and reached for the spot reflexively, Odin shoved his chair to once side and took over the computer console, seeing if an old trick worked. "I know this encryption. You're going about hacking their coms the long way."

"The fuck I am… You can't just tell from one damn second of…"

"We've got their radio link," Odin called out.

"Put it through line three," Noin ordered. "Koln, monitor it, switch it to the big speakers as soon as they start tossing orders."

"Ma'am." The tech – Koln, apparently – swore as he shoved his chair back into place and did as told, snatching up a pair of headphones. "I'm not sure how the hell you do that, but don't _hit_ me next time…"

"Practice. Next time, move." He'd only swung hard enough to startle.

Koln growled and began to mutter darkly in a language that the pilot couldn't hear enough of to decipher. Odin moved quickly to Abdul's side, only to have the Arabic man raise his eyebrows at him. "That was fast even for you."

"The first thing I do with any com system I run is work out how to crack it. Treize did a good job with it, but…"

"And you never let Zechs know you could eavesdrop whenever it suited you," Noin finished, her tone… odd.

Odin focused on her, and noticed the white-knuckled grip she had on the back of the chair in front of her, the unevenness of her breathing… the flatness in the eyes that he had realized, over the past few weeks, were normally very expressive.

Epyon was out there. Zechs. This wasn't the seething rage he had seen the other day when she tore into her recruits… this was more… upset.

Zechs. Maybe not everything had changed…

And… _Zechs_. That sounded… incredibly… _good_. His blood started to pound, adrenaline slamming into his veins at the very idea.

"Give me Heavyarms' access codes."

Noin spun around to face him, eyes narrowed. "No." She focused on Abdul. "You're on lead; I need to go fly."

"No," Abdul argued. "My kids are on the field in this one, they know my patterns, not yours. They're not ready for this."

She grit her teeth. "I can do this."

Odin grinned at her, _elation_ outright shocking up his spine. "Oh, you could." He didn't doubt that she would, for all that she found tie idea distasteful. "But I would _love_ to do it instead."

She blinked, surprised… and finally _looked_ at him before starting to smirk. "You really would, wouldn't you?"

A phrase of Marlé's came to mind. "Any day of the week."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Brussels**

"What the _hell_ are you people letting him smoke?!"

Somehow, the fact that she was in her nightgown and her hair all a mess from sleeping didn't make the princess any less intimidating.

"Your highness, I assure you that-"

"I just woke up to a call from Ambassador Kim, saying that he's sorry, but he's gathering his people and heading home because they're about to _go to war with us_!" She slapped one hand down on the desk in front of her set of screens. "Because apparently, Milliardo just broke his bloody peace treaty by attacking an outpost on _their territory_! Territory they have full rights to by the truce _he_ crafted in 196!"

General Lee felt his cheeks go cold, even as he tried to sooth the blonde woman. It was a mistake… "There are _rebels_ in that base, we confirmed-"

"_Rebels_ be damned! The Chinese are a _greater_ threat on all counts. Half the colonies are under _their_ alignment! Get your men _off_ the battlefield, General, or so help me, I will make a statement that your inability to pick up the phone and _negotiate with your allies_ before sending out troops, sending out a _gundam_ of all things, just cost us Europe's winter crop!"

…He wouldn't last an _hour_ out of doors if the princess followed through on her threat.

"_Get him off the field_," she persisted, "and I can mend this. At least, I can mend it well enough that the _people_ won't feel it, and we don't all have angry _mobs_ coming after us." She hung up, and the screen went blank.

Lee took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. He had been _assured_ that the wording of the treaty document… _Well, assurances be damned, apparently._ They _couldn't_ afford Chinese hostility right now, and if the princess could fix that, then he was following her lead. "Someone get me a secure line to Geraldi." He doubted the Lightning Count would listen to reason while in the midst of battle – his record certainly didn't suggest it – but his first lieutenant would.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Sudan**

"Sir, we need to-"

Zechs tuned out Geraldi's voice as he fought his traitorous lungs and gravity both, pushing the thrusters to their limits in order to not move into the position Heavyarms had slammed him towards, struggling to get an upper hand.

None of the analyses he had managed to run on the battles this new variation of Heavyarms had participated in matched this… ferocity. It was faster than he had thought as well. Apparently, the pilot had only been running it as fast as the situation called for each time he flew.

Also apparently, the hours, _weeks_, he had put into the sims trying to get ready for this didn't hold a candle to a real battle. He had known that, but…

The red beam saber dug deep into Epyon's tail before the computer could input the need to deflect properly, or he could manually do it himself.

Something was terribly _wrong_. The timings within his machine were off, and not in any consecutive way that he could decipher. The computer system was… _wrong_. It didn't make sense, he had run literally every diagnostic again and again, but it-

A lance of pain shocked through his chest and right arm.

_**I**__ am wrong._

The fear suddenly struck him that the machine might not be the problem. Before he could consider it in any depth, however, the world spun as Heavyarms sent Epyon _flying_ and he heard more than felt his head crack _through_ the cushions of his chair into the unyielding metal behind and he momentarily blacked out. He reflexively tried to heave up the nothing he had purposely maintained in his stomach, but couldn't coordinate enough to even gasp as the nerves of his back burned like the flames had been reignited.

'Shit' didn't even begin to cover it. Nothing more creative came to mind, though.

"_Sir_!"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

Heavyarms willingly retreated when the five Taurus launched themselves in front of Epyon while two Aries hastily moved to _pick up_ the other gundam.

They had been screeching about a retreat and a treaty for a while now, and Lucrezia had snorted through the com link and noted that it was a little _late_ for that, but that they were to allow the troops to withdraw once they reached the perimeter line. Zechs, however… She felt her jaw clench. The man, as usual, just didn't know when to drop it.

…Heero seemed to be enjoying himself, at any rate. She couldn't help but smile a bit at the memory of that predatory grin… and she was going to have to chase him about exactly _how_ he was opening up the gundam's capabilities, because he'd already pulled off at least two maneuvers that she hadn't considered possible with the extra weight the armor imparted. Hilde ran her little programs that sped things up, but they tended to be highly detrimental at the same time… In any case, if there _was_ something decent for that effect in the coding arena, Heero _would_ be the one to ask. Knowing him, however, it was just as likely to be something else she had overlooked entirely that he didn't know how to work without. She suspected he might be confused about what she even meant when she asked him. Confusion was his most common first reaction to a great deal of things. Serious contemplation and casual revelation usually followed, tailed by a startlingly easygoing brand of acceptance.

The remote, occasionally alarming boy had grown into one of the most straightforward, blasé men she had ever met. She remembered Relena talking about the way he had behaved after each time she angered him, but… The blonde she had met a few months ago had seemingly lost the facet of himself that was quick to upset in the storm of the past few years. Something had taught him tolerance… though if she was honest, it was entirely possible that he had reached that point of absolution before or while they all lived on _Peacemillion_. While not exactly talkative now, he didn't avoid conversation or interaction of any kind the way he had back then, so it was not as if she could have claimed to really know him three years ago.

The danger officially over, she turned and headed for the hanger to see everyone in. The Regime soldiers didn't allow for their Lightning Count to argue with them until they reached the territorial boundaries, which was likely for the best. It wasn't as though he had been listening to the ongoing frantic arguments on why they had to leave _immediately_… Something along the lines of "the Chinese will come and kill us all" only more politically correct and less fear mongering. This Geraldi seemed to be one of the more verbose types when under pressure… something Lucrezia had always found rather annoying, though periodically highly amusing. The things that spilled out of David Mitchell's mouth once he got going were usually worth recording to embarrass him with later.

…Mitchell was fighting off the madmen to the north, now. It wasn't a job she envied in the slightest, but she was relieved he was in charge – her old friend knew how to get things done. From what she knew of him, he was probably making the best of it. Reports were coming back that he was finding far more sane victims of the cult than anticipated… and she wondered how many of them he was recruiting for Treize. Once they had learned that the man was alive, there had never been a shadow of doubt in her mind that Mitchell was a faithful agent; loyalty was the very core of David's being, the same way contentment was hers. Not everyone could be defined so simply, of course, but they all had their strongest aspect… Jake's concept of beloved, Treize and his notion of true nobility, Zechs and…

But of course, she knew now that she had missed a large part of what made Milliardo who he was, hadn't she? No… After _Libra_, she wouldn't presume to know his focal personality traits. Not anymore.

And Cassie had always persisted that something about the prince troubled her, hadn't she? Jake had never grown to like him, though he'd at least agreed to civility… and Jake's version of civil was frighteningly close to the ruined prince's definition of loving, so they had gotten on amazingly well after that point. The pure hilarity of _that_ particular situation just increased with the reports they were gleaning out of the Regime. Zechs had charged him with Relena, and allowed him to simply refuse any inquiries towards his men when suspicion rose. Then there was the sudden _skill_ Relena had in flouting and fudging every possible line in existence…

Milliardo implicitly _trusted_ the man, and Jake was far from above using that mistake to his greatest advantage; it was the kind thing he _thrived_ with. She hadn't lied when she told Sally that she had no idea what side Jake might be working for, but that was because above all else, Jake worked for _himself_, and while that usually included an allegiance, he was more than happy to design his own if he didn't appreciate his options. Incidentally, the puppet master had a strong talent for fully crafting his own sphere of influence – and it looked as though he revolved around the princess these days. As Relena was becoming more of a power in her own right, they probably had their answer about his alignment right there… which in turn meant that the ball was in Relena's court, and the question became tricky again.

Unfortunately, personally being on the list of the man's beloved didn't count for much when he was so thorough with his security that finding him _alone_ to approach and talk to was physically impossible. And with the webs of deceit the chameleon wove through those around him, there was no way she could possibly trust anyone he kept nearby, making privacy a must. She had only had a scarce minute of access in Amsterdam to see him last December, and even that had been risky as hell. Relena's company would be safe too, of course, but on the off chance that he took her on outings without the other guards he selected, Lucrezia knew him well enough to realize that she would have a snowball's chance in hell of finding them on such an excursion. Jake was useless when it came to anything mechanical, but in trade for that, he was a master in virtually all other arts of violence and espionage. There was literally no one who she would feel safer with at her back… but what Milliardo had never realized was that that trust was highly exclusive. She could count the people who had ever full rights to rely on the man on six fingers, and half of them were dead. Well, there were possibly a total of seven, now; Relena had a way of winning people over.

"Heavyarms reporting," muttered Heero's voice through her earpiece. "Could someone get my grey backpack out from under my bunk?"

Lucrezia looked around and gestured at someone with a radio questioningly, who shrugged agreeably and waved before jogging out of the room. "I've got someone on it," she assured him. "You're going to have to teach me some what you did out there today, Yuy. You sure you've only flown that baby once?"

She smiled and closed her eyes as the doors opened, enjoying the blast of hot wind on her face as her hair was blown back. She had been ready to damn Sally to hell when the troops had shown up, but now, she could kiss the Chinese woman. Their ally had held true to their promises… and while it changed the playing field earlier than planned, it might not be a bad thing. She was going to have to get Heero's help on yet another project now that she had only been idly considering before, but it ought to peak his interest in any case.

The pilot's tone was a touch amused. "It doesn't handle anything like it did in Antarctica; it's been remodded too many times. It's not too different from Wing, though."

That made sense. "Good to know. You have fun out there?"

His laughter, more of a chuckle than anything, was refreshing. He had laughed easily enough over the past few months, of course, but it was still startling, in contrast to before. In some ways it would have been easier to consider him someone else entirely, but it wasn't a schism she cared to allow her mind to take solace in. The idea was a crutch; she preferred to face her reality fully, especially after… after everything.

"I owe you a favor for this, Noin," he announced after a moment. Yuy was waiting outside the hangar, as he didn't know the usual formations, while the other pilots quickly settled their suits into the appropriate resting bays. "I…" He paused, seeming to seriously consider, before deciding, "I forgot how much I missed this."

Abdul laughed delightedly as he activated his own com. "Oh, but Heero, my friend, it was worth it to see you knock him flat on his ass, believe me."

Lucrezia snickered, not at the concept – although it _had_ been vindictively amusing to watch – so much as the fact that the leading Maguanac cursed so rarely that it surprised her every time.

"Do you drink?" the Arabic man went on to ask.

"…Alcohol?"

She made sure her earpiece was on manual before she gave into helpless giggles. His puzzlement was all too evident.

Abdul laughed outright. "I'm buying you a drink tonight."

Silence met that announcement for a good five seconds. Finally, "Why?"

Abdul seemed to take it in stride. "To celebrate, of course!"

"…You get what you want as part of a celebration, right?"

"That too, naturally."

"…Can I have a hot bath instead?"

Lucrezia closed her eyes while Abdul howled, and pretty much everyone near her laughed or shared disbelieving looks.

"I've only seen showers so far," he protested mildly.

She let out a few more giggles, eyes still shut. He _did_ always look in the bathrooms of anywhere he stayed almost immediately, but she had dismissed it as a perimeter check habit. He also did seem to enjoy taking an inordinately long time in the bath or shower, but that wasn't an uncommon trait in the colony-born who realized they were completely without water restrictions, especially those who had once lived such strict lifestyles as Heero. She hadn't thought it was a high enough priority as _this_, though.

Touching the button on her earpiece, she suggested, "How about a compromise? You've been too busy to go down there, Heero, but there's a hot tub off to the side in the gym." She smirked a bit. "Hot water and partying don't have to be exclusive, I've gathered."

There was a definite hesitation, but after a moment he apparently shrugged it off. "Alright."

Banter broke out to her more local hearing as her soldiers finished powering down and exited their machines, more than happy to be home safe. Abdul had been in his rights, earlier… counting on the protection that Sally had forged with her homeland, they had not considered that Milliardo might be foolish enough to attack before they did something overt, and consequently, the most inexperienced and young recruits resided here. Before all was said and done this would likely be their stronghold, but… they had not been ready for battle against veterans, and they had known it. She let the soldiers' chatter wash over her and found her own comfort in it, allowing relief to settle in her chest and make its home there. Casualty-free victories were rare, especially with such green troops. She would bask in what she could get; she had braced for the worst once the news came in.

Letting out a deep breath, she opened her eyes and found Abdul standing off to one side of her in his own… calmly excited way. This meant his stance was relaxed and his smile easy, but his mood was more akin to when other men were virtually bouncing off the walls. She hadn't expected any less, really, considering her own humor, but seeing the reflection in her comrade added another layer of pleasant backlash.

When he frowned, however, alarm bells went off, and she moved to follow his gaze. Once he was this happy, it took-

_Oh God._

Heero had finally parked and exited the suit, and was _limping_ towards them. The front center of his shirt was too dark and the edges of the dark splotch were just starting to dry and crust over. "Heero?" she demanded sharply. What in the _hell_ had he found in the cockpit to cut himself on? "Get the doctor," she snapped as she strode forward, and she saw Abdul dart away in her peripheral vision.

Heero stopped and narrowed his eyes at her. "Calm down."

Damn it, this was her fault, she was supposed to have been the one out there, not him. "What happened?"

His glare was more suspicious and cautious than anything, she estimated, and there was still confusion there as well, for whatever reason this time. "Could you be more specific?" He shifted higher on his good leg to look around her. "Did anyone bring my bag yet?"

Horror stories of him dealing with his own injuries rose unaided. She'd never call Duo a rumormonger, but he didn't keep his mouth shut about things that impressed or creeped him out, and Heero was good at evoking both emotions. "You'll be seeing the doctor on base," she informed him. "Sally handpicked him, and I trust him with my life."

He blinked at her, expression clearly showing he thought she was being absurd. "It's not necessary."

"I insist."

Exasperation crept onto his face. "Fine. Is my bag here yet?" He started to limp forward again, and her alarm actually grew when she saw just how gingerly he was treating his right leg.

The boy who would reset his own femur and _walk it off_ was being that delicate with his body. Her approach was also not getting far, however, so she purposefully chose her next words to have less concern. "What happened to your shirt?"

He snorted. "I poured coffee all over myself when the alarms went off."

Some of the tension in her chest lessened. _Not blood._ Taking a few steps closer and focusing on it, she could see, now, that it was too brown to be blood, even drying blood. That still left the leg, though…

_He was limping Saturday afternoon too,_ she recalled suddenly, and was hit with the worry that he had done himself some fairly decent damage testing her base's defenses… damn and _damn_.

And he was eying her as if worried she might explode, now… which did _not_ help her temper. Instead of continuing to mother hen when he was obviously off put by it, however, she crossed her arms and glowered. She had learned, after a certain point, to let the physicians do the lecturing. He met her gaze with exasperated annoyance, seemingly perfectly content to wait her out… which was fine, because she was only waiting for someone else to show up and take over.

Instead of the doctor, however, it was the man who had gone to fetch his knapsack who interrupted them. Without breaking from her gaze, the pilot muttered a gruff thank-you and hooked one arm through the grab loop on top so he could hold it aloft and use both hands on the zipper at the same time, opened it, and dug for a moment before pulling out another bag, at which point he let the backpack slump to the floor. Tugging the drawstring open, he pulled out something long and cylindrical and quickly unwound a cord around it, revealing it to be three separate pieces. He tucked the cord into the bag then dropped it in the gaping mouth of the backpack at his feet before fitting two of the ends together and deftly spinning them into place and connecting them to the third in the same fashion. It wasn't until he pulled it to his right side and comfortably rested his weight on it that she realized what it was.

A cane.

Her mind went blank, and stayed that way even as he began to move towards her again with far more ease than he had any right… the kind of ease that was earned with long familiarity.

In general, he carried that pack everywhere he went. The cane was unusual enough that it was likely custom made, and obviously he carried it with him in that bag without fail. The easy way he'd gone through the wrappings of it and assembled it without breaking their staring contest screamed of the same long familiarity.

All the tension left her in a rush, and she sighed, feeling drained. "What happened?" she asked quietly, relaxing her stance.

He seemed to relax minutely as well, though he just shrugged. "I've been pushing it lately. I overextended myself."

"Does it happen often?" she asked quietly. He hadn't answered fully, but she hadn't honestly expected him to; she could ask later, or let the doctor ask. She still wanted him looked over, even if it was just a confirmation of what he knew.

"Not anymore." He considered her eyes for a moment, then shook his head ruefully. "The day after I caught Chang Xutao, I could hardly move at all. But it was a good sign, too."

She frowned pensively. "How so?"

He canted his head to one side, considering his answer. She resettled her weight and waited; Jake had nearly identical body language when debating how to explain something. "It was an acceptable price," he announced after a moment. "I had to sprint as fast as I had at New Edwards, to catch Xutao. It was… true, again."

She closed her eyes as the implications. "You couldn't run, before that."

He snorted softly. "It was fifteen months before I could _walk_, Noin."

…That _would_ explain the newfound patience, wouldn't it? She couldn't even imagine managing such an injury. _Over a year…_ "_Libra_?"

"Hn." After a moment, he added, "I would recommend against fighting mid-atmo fall."

So there was a price to consistently doing the impossible after all, it seemed.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany – Sarracenia**

"I understand," Relena was muttering into the phone. "I'll work out all the necessary adjustments and get back to you, but I'm positive it won't be a problem; I just need a few hours to get the paperwork ironed out. They've actually offered to do this before, but there was no need at the time." A pause. "Of course."

Mai bumped the door closed behind her with one hip as Relena wrapped up her current phone conversation. Seeing as she wasn't using the vid function, it was probably the ambassador again; he didn't have that capability on his cell. It was just as well, seeing as, at the moment, the princess still wasn't suited to be seen publicly in any case.

That was what she had come to solve. Approaching the couch, she mentally debated how she wanted to arrange the packages for Lena to go through.

"Of course, naturally. I certainly intend to do exactly that, but it would also be good for you to talk to him yourself." The younger woman grimaced, though she took a moment to smile appreciatively at Mai and offer a little wave. "I'm afraid I'm not sure I hold very much weight with him, so a more aggressive stance from your angle might be the best course; I can approach him more gently from an alternate direction afterwards and smooth any ruffled feathers. I believe we will get the best results that way." She paused again, then laughed a little. "Yes, well, it's the truth of the matter, isn't it? We can negotiate new points after this one is settled, after all. I won't let him jeopardize the wellbeing of the people. In the end of the day, it's as simple as that."

Best sort by type, Mai decided after a moment, beginning to juggle the bags.

"I appreciate that, Ambassador, more than I can express. Are we still on for lunch on Friday? Hopefully negotiations with the Regime will have finished by then. Alright. I'll be sure to send you the authorizations and new contract as soon as I have it. Thank-you. Good-bye." Ending the call, Relena dropped the phone on her desk and pressed her hands to either side of her head before meeting Mailin's eyes with a weak smile. "Hi."

Mailin winked at her. "G'day, love. Done saving the world for the moment?"

"For the moment," Relena agreed wryly. "My brother's bound and determined to screw us all over, I swear."

"I'm not about to argue," Mai returned easily as she continued organizing. "Just to add salt to the wound, though, apparently a few news crews saw the carriers heading out to the base and put two and two together fast enough to catch the whole thing on camera, so there's better imaging on it all than just the satellite feeds. They're blaring the footage all over the news."

The princess grimaced and picked up the remote to switch the TV to the news before turning to actually focus on the clothes and sighing. "You're a lifesaver, Mai, thank-you."

"It's not a problem," the major dismissed. "I like to shop, and with everyone focused on what's happened, I didn't have to wait in any lines." She grinned. "I agree it would have been altogether embarrassing to ask your colonel." Holding out the very pink bag with lingerie, she added, "And I even managed to find some pretty ones."

The downside of being ridiculously famous was that it made it very difficult to shop like a normal person. Unfortunately, when said celebrity still had a teenager's changing body, things like gaining a cup size essentially overnight could happen, and it was entirely perceivable that all her nice shirts suddenly looked like she was trying to bust out of them. As being seen thus was something of a crisis for such a viewed figure – who was always wearing perfectly tailored clothes – something had to be done immediately; and even if this morning hadn't been utterly psychotic, if someone caught the princess out buying underwear, the rumor mill would have a heyday and twist it into a scandal. Thus, Mai had gone on something of a shopping spree this morning while Relena did her politicking. She fully expected to take at least half of it back, but she had assumed variety and proper size was important, and they should be able to get at least a handful of outfits out of the lot of it. The majority of girl's pants had been getting visibly too tight around the hips for the past few weeks too, so she'd taken the liberty of getting a decent assortment slacks and jeans as well.

Her arms had about fallen off carrying it all up to the third floor. It would have been easier if the handles of the damn bags didn't bite into the skin so hard, because she could sure as hell carry a lot more weight than the clothing accounted for, but it was another story altogether when the circulation to your lower arms was vanishing by the second. Lorenzo had been following her rather curiously throughout her exodus of the house, but thankfully he didn't like the nightingale floor leading into the office, so he had lost interest at that point. She really didn't need to get dog hair all over the new wardrobe.

She'd go play with him after Relena got into the shower. He was such an attentive creature, especially considering she'd only had him for a week.

"Ooh, cute…" The girl's expression of actual delight made the extra effort with it. She looked around for a moment, considering, before shrugging and shucking off her pajamas.

"When's the colonel due back?" Mai asked curiously. The door locked automatically, but it also opened automatically for Jake.

"Not for another hour at the soonest," Relena assured her. "And Dorothy and Mu ought to be arriving at Brussels any time now." She sighed. "Olivia is coming by this afternoon… she's been insisting on taking me to a late lunch at some restaurant she knows, and she says she wants to make sure the dog is settling well."

Mai nodded, considering. "You should ask her how she goes about her clothes too. She's not famous like you, but I can't see her wandering a department store either."

"That's not a bad idea." She sighed again. "This is so ridiculous, in some ways."

"I'm not about to disagree," Mai returned easily, selecting a shirt and holding it out. "But I also see it's necessary. Try this first." She winced as some of the battle footage came on and showed Heavyarms send Epyon flying. "Oh… Do you think he's alright?"

Relena didn't even glance up. "I'm sure he'll manage."

It was an easy way to kill time, and Mai watched the princess visibly brighten and cheer up, relishing the 'girl time' as it were. Jake was far more courteous than most men, but in the end of the day, he was still very male. And Dorothy… Dorothy was a drama queen fashionista, which, by definition, included the maturity level of a middle school queen bee. The two noblewomen cared for each other a great deal, as far as Mai had been able to gather, but had next to nothing in common.

All the same, Mai wasn't too surprised when, forty minutes later, they heard the floors outside the office chirp. She also couldn't help but be amused, however, by Relena's squeak as she yanked a pair of jeans up over her hips… and tripped over the hem to fall flat on her back. She rested one hand over her lower face to hide her smile as the office door opened and Jake came in, a confused and _almost_ alarmed expression on his face… before he focused on Mai and the pile of shopping bags. "Lena?" he called tentatively.

"Just a minute…" The girl was trying to finish snugging into her pants and doing up the buttons before getting off the floor. _Note to self: next size up on those…_

Jake let his eyes wander more pointedly over the brands on the discarded bags. "Do I want to know?" he asked after a moment.

"No," Mailin informed him easily, giving him a dashing smile. "You're early." She debated for a moment, considering Relena as she climbed back to her feet. "And the princess hasn't quite graduated to a Long length on her pants, looks like."

"I'm aware," he noted dryly… which made Mai grin all the more broadly at him.

"Well, they're cute," Relena decided after a moment, moving around the couch and shifting her weight experimentally. Mai blinked, a little surprised that they _did_ look good… damn good, in fact, not too tight after all. "Little hard to get _into_," the princess amended, "but… fun." They certainly weren't work jeans, but every teenager wanted a pair of hot high fashion jeans at least at some point, right? Even if she only ever wore them around the house, Mai had figured it was worth a shot. It was the little things that made a girl feel appreciated, after all.

"They are," Jake admitted after a moment. Shaking his head, he added, "I could probably lose you in a mall, with those and a t-shirt."

She grinned at him. "Jeans and a t-shirt make a disguise? Not even a pair of glasses, huh?"

"Those only work for Superman," Mai dismissed impulsively. "A hat or bandana might do the trick, though." She had no idea if Jake was being serious, but she could already tell that the idea of a set of clothes to hide in plain sight greatly appealed to their princess. "High heeled boots, maybe some jewelry you wouldn't be caught dead in." She tilted her head to one side. "That shirt would look nice with this neck scarf I passed by earlier, if you didn't button it so high… maybe a camisole under it?"

"Hm…" She just about cackled to herself when Relena turned to the mirror on the back of the bathroom door and began fiddling with the buttons, trying to decide how many she could undo without being indecent. Despite being store-bought, the blue blouse that matched her eyes was a damn near perfect cut for her curves… and the colonel was trying _terribly_ hard to not notice.

It was downright adorable.

"Not to interrupt the fashion show," Jake muttered after a moment, "but you told me to make sure you needed to be in the bath by ten so you would be ready to leave by noon, but now you have an appointment with Agatha Schiavonne downstairs at eleven, so you should probably go hop in."

"Oh, you got a hold of her? Excellent." She considered her reflection a moment longer and nodded. "I'll wear this one, then, and…" She looked back to the couch strewn with clothes, biting her lip.

"They pale grey slacks?" Mai hazarded.

"Yes. And…" She wrinkled her nose and gestured a little wildly, starting to flush, in the direction of the lingerie pile of things to keep.

"Got it." She shook her head. "Go draw your water and run down to your room to hang that shirt up, and I'll take care of the rest. We can organize what you didn't get through when you're done tonight."

"Thank-you." Relena focused back on Jake. "Any other news?"

His expression was amused as he walked towards her, looking the disaster on the couch over with some interest as he ticked off points on his fingers. "You have a hair appointment for Friday, Dorothy has decided that Mu has a stick up her ass…" He blinked as he caught sight of something very _lacy_ and shook his head. "And we need to decide when to visit Brussels to check on your brother. Olivia has something up her sleeve today, I'm sure, but that's a general healthy assumption to run with for her ilk."

"That's a shirt," Relena defended, seeing what had caught his attention. Mai suppressed a snicker. She hadn't really expected the princess to like the overshirt, but it had caught her attention enough that she'd decided it was worth a shot. If nothing else, her reaction had been worth it.

"That isn't comforting."

"I'm not keeping it."

"I might hold you to that."

The princess snickered and ducked into the bathroom, heading for the trap door down to her closet… leaving the office door wide open. Letting out an annoyed sigh, the colonel briskly walked over and pushed it shut before leaning back against it, eyes shut… and rapping the back of his head against it once, hard.

Mai raised one brow at him as he opened those pretty blues of his again and half-heartedly glowered at her, to which she grinned unabashedly.

He rolled his eyes… and banged his head against the door a second time.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Marlin, Texas**

_"Yo traje alimento por usted, señora." _

Hilde pointedly ignored the woman's voice, trying not to lose track of what she was doing. Reducing the ambient radiation output had been relatively easy in the short-term, and while Xutao focused on the programming of that, she and Adam had been relegated to trying to fix the slew of mechanisms gone wrong inside the little bunker.

_"Señora, traje alimento; ¿tiene hambre usted?" _

Of all the things they had expected to find, horrifying and otherwise, nothing quite this… pathetically _obnoxious_ had occurred to any of them.

There was a long-suffering sigh. _"Usted trabaja demasiado duramente. Lo dejaré aquí. Gracias." _

Well, she knew that last word at least, but that was about as good as her Spanish got.

Unfortunately, no one here spoke a _word_ of English.

Adam, thankfully, was fluent, and had been able to get some answers out of the little… the little underground _village_ they had stumbled across. Some illegal immigrant had found the bunker more or less on accident almost two years ago and, upon finding it stocked full of nonperishable food, had invited all his friends and relatives, and then all of _their_ friends and relatives to his new home before locking the rest of the world out for safety reasons. They had brought every piece of hydroponics equipment they could find with them too, and had lived rather well, until the generators started to run out of fuel. After that, they had started to figure out how to jerry rig the generators to the base's last-ditch nuclear reactor.

Great ideas, great ingenuity, impeccable survival instinct and care for their neighbors… shit execution.

Why?

All the manuals, all the programs for controlling the damn thing, were in _English_.

All they knew was that a few months ago, the computer screens started flashing red and a bunch of gibberish they couldn't understand every time they brought them out of hibernation.

More recently, everyone had started to get sick. And it was no wonder, with how much radiation was seeping out of the _nuclear reactor_ that they had removed _over half_ of the damn shielding on in order to work with the thing.

She tried to remind herself that it didn't count as base stupidity when the degree of pure _ignorance_ was this high. No matter how much she wanted to screech at them, it really wasn't their fault that they didn't know better. Unfortunately, that only made the whole situation worse.

_Well, at least we didn't stumble into the nuclear holocaust after all._ This was considerably more tame than anything they had been prepared for, even if it made her want to cry tears of frustration.

Flopping the rest of the way against the ground, she considered her handwork. Other than the final sauter, this piece looked pretty decent. After the past few days spent wiring the connections _correctly_, she was trying to get all the shielding on the reactor back into place, or at least, well enough in place to get the job done. Adam was focusing on the more domestic problems, like making sure they had been managing their plumbing and wiring well enough that they wouldn't soon kill themselves some other creative way. He had – correctly – assumed Hilde might be happier with a job that required a hammer and blowtorch more than delicate handling.

Now was probably a good time to see what the woman before had wanted, though it sounded like she'd left. _Better late than never._ She had been astounded at how much could be gotten across the language barrier with gesturing and drawing and some small amount of charades. Pushing out from underneath the behemoth of a machine she had been under, she pulled off her helmet and looked around. They had gotten the radiation down to relatively safe levels right off the bat, and she was loaded with a purely ridiculous amount of radioprotectors, but she preferred to have extra layers of protection over her body all the same. It never hurt to be too careful when you were getting up close and personal with an invisible killer. Her jumpsuit was made out of the same blocking material – she was fairly sure she wanted kids someday, or at least the option to decide if she did, thank-you… And froze in disbelief as she saw the plate of food that had been left for her.

_Is that…?_

Half dashing forward, she knelt and examined the pale green leaves mixed with the canned beans and rice and god knew what else. _It can't be._ Quickly, she yanked off her gloves and snatched up a piece to pop in her mouth.

Light, crisp, moist… tasted more like water than anything. _Oh my God!_

She hadn't had lettuce in _years_. She hadn't realized how much she missed it until just now, but… Damn, when had fresh green food become such a novelty?

Settling back into a cross-legged position, she pulled the plate into her lap and began to eat with relish. There were only little pieces mixed in with the rest, but these people, however pathetic in other ways, knew how to make a meal worth eating.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Jerusalem, Israel**

The house was still empty.

Quatre pursed his lips as he debated what to do. He had come by earlier in the day and rung the bell, to no answer. When he moved to look through the windows again, he could tell that nothing had been shifted around, which was a clear indicator of Moira's absence. She liked to spend her evenings either watching TV in the living room or baking, and he had a clear view into both rooms. It was equally obvious that they still lived there, however, with photos lining the walls and knick-knacks covering every available surface.

He had tried the doctor's office first, but the man had moved to a different location, and Quatre was unsure if that was something of an attempt to dissuade patients like Heero and he had been from showing up to hold him at gunpoint. Of course, it could also be assumed that very few of his patients – legitimate or otherwise – were invited into the Sronas' home like the two of them had been, so he had thought to try there next. It wasn't too great of a jump to think that the doctor might want to avoid having suspicious characters lingering outside his office, especially if someone in the government had noticed the neutrality he displayed, which was the very reason he had chosen to go to him in the first place.

With no one home, however…

He would just have to wait until Dr. Srona closed up shop for the evening before dropping in, like last time. This was his only link back to Heero, and that seemed like the best place to start. "Come on Cory. Let's go get some dinner."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Dachau, Germany**

Relena looked around as they came into the restaurant, half expecting a dramatic change, but… no. She was inwardly rather surprised by Olivia's choice of venue, but her assessment essentially matched Jake's; this was to say it was worth blinking at, but then only earned a shrug. Neither of them would have guessed that the restaurant the young noblewoman insisted they just _had_ to try with her was a homespun diner, but it wasn't entirely out of character either. Relena preferred this over the more high end dining she had assumed she was surrendering herself to, in any case.

Olivia was already seated and waved them over happily. Lin nodded to Jake and moved to sit on his own at a little table where he could watch the front and side entrances with ease while Mars moved back outside, now that he knew where they would be. Vaughn had stayed in the car, keeping an eye on the back of the building. Jake waved vaguely at Olivia as he turned away. "Save me a seat?"

"Of course," Relena returned automatically, and went to sit down while her bodyguard went to poke around the staff areas. If this had been a bigger venue he would have stationed someone in the kitchens, but as it was, there was little need. He couldn't justify intimidating the staff in a tiny kitchen when, after an initial inspection, it served just as well to watch the exits and patrol periodically on the pretense of being bored and friendly. Smiling at Olivia, she asked, "Have I happened on a favorite hideaway of yours?"

The redhead grinned. "It's as good as any other place. I've actually only been twice, but I stumbled across something I just had to share." Her smile turned secretive. "I thought you might appreciate it."

That sounded either promising or horrid; unfortunately, she didn't yet know Olivia well enough to guess which. Instead, she decided to focus on an aspect of the establishment that she _did_ know she appreciated, even having only just arrived. "I like that no one's made a fuss over me yet." Some places these days, she was virtually mobbed by well-meaning staff.

Though of course, there was still the chance that they simply hadn't put two and two together yet. If that was the case… Well, she could dream until they dashed her hopes, right?

"Good evening, ladies," the waitress chirped as she bounced up to the table. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Water, please," Olivia decided without looking away from the princess, her eyes _sparkling_.

Debating exactly what she might have signed herself up for, Relena turned to meet the girl's eyes and froze in surprise. Honey blonde hangs hung over sky blue eyes set in a heart-shaped face. Her teeth were straight and perfect, and other than the fact that her hair was long enough to pull into a tiny ponytail… it was nearly like looking into a mirror. "Oh my…"

"Wow," the waitress agreed, just as taken aback. She nibbled at her lower lip and stared in apparent awe. "And people always say _I_ look kinda like…" Her eyes widened as apparently Relena's identity actually clicked. "Oh wow. That's almost _scary_."

"What's scary?" Jake had finished his quick rounds and was walking towards them.

"Jake, come meet our waitress!" It was a little bizarre, but also undeniably cool. They said everyone had a twin out there, didn't they?

The teenager spun to stare at the colonel and gasped. "Jake?" Her tone was disbelieving. "Jake Miller, is that you?" When he didn't immediately deny it, she let out something of a squeak. "Oh my God!"

The blonde man frowned, choosing to not react to her striking resemblance. "Do I know you?"

She laughed a little nervously and offered him a sheepish smile. "Oh, well, you wouldn't remember me, but you worked with my sister about six years ago, in L2… Adelia Fonne?"

Jake blinked, and Relena saw recognition light up his eyes as they widened with delight. "_Daniella_?" At her quick nod and eager smile, he dashed forward and pulled her into a hug. "Look at you!" he crowed, half spinning her so she giggled. "All grown up and beautiful! What are you now, sixteen?"

"Fifteen," she corrected, pulling back. "And you're younger than Addie, right? So… twenty-two?"

"Not for another two months, but close. How _is_ Addie?" He frowned. "And while we're at it, why are you on Earth?"

"Oh, well…" The girl shifted in an embarrassed sort of way that Relena found herself suddenly grateful she didn't do herself. "We're getting by."

Now if _that_ didn't set off warning bells, Relena wasn't sure what qualified. Picking up on Jake's comment, she led with one of her own. "When did you leave the colonies?"

"Oh, November of 195. Nat proposed to Addie and asked us to move down to live with him." Her expression was sorrowful, but in a tired sort of way that made it obvious that the pain was old. "He was a soldier, though, so when Treize called everyone to fight at _Libra_…" She shook her head. "He never made it back. Uncle Madison told us he never wanted to see us again if we really had the gall to run off, so we didn't have anywhere to go back to, and Addie already had her baby on the way, so we just settled in. I started off here washing dishes, but waiting tables pays better, so here I am." This all had been directed at Jake, who was trying to make her meet his eyes, but then she bit her lip again and focused nervously on Relena. "Which reminds me… What can I get you to drink, ma'am?"

"Waters all around, for now," Jake decided, not wanting to drop the subject. "There are funds allocated to the families of the soldiers who died. Aren't you getting that?"

Daniella glanced quickly back to Relena and Olivia as if to check that they were okay with the continuing interrogation in favor of their order before focusing back on Jake and shaking her head. "Nothing was really official… He hadn't even bought a ring yet because they used the money for my passport and ticket down instead. He was going to buy her one after he got his next check, but… well, yeah." She shrugged. It was fairly evident that if she had ever been bothered by that slight, she had long since gotten over it.

"What about the baby you mentioned, though?"

The girl's smile was bright and genuine. "Oh, he's just fine. Addie works a couple different places as a cleaning lady during the day, and I work evenings, so one of us is always home with him. We don't see too much of each other in between rushing in and out of the apartment, but we're not wanting bad for anything either." Shaking her head slightly and offering a gentle smile, she reached out to clasp both of Jake's hands. "It's really good to see you, though." Looking back to the table, she announced, "I'll be right out with your water, and I'll take the rest of your order whenever you're ready."

Jake looked a little lost as they watched her walk away… maybe a little heartbroken. _Disenchanted,_ Relena decided, feeling her own heart wilt a little at the sight. Then his stance straightened, and he met her eyes with a determined glint in his own.

She pre-empted him before he could voice the idea in his head. "We _do_ need a maid or two, and I don't see any reason why the little one would be a problem." She paused, then decided to ask the obvious question… the reason they still didn't _have_ a maid. "You trust them?"

"Addie's an old friend," He told her seriously. "She has a good heart and a practical mind… we were both hired on for some projects in L2, and she almost always had little Daniella with her; their parents had died in the plagues that rose up in 185. Technically, they were being raised by their uncle, but," he grimaced, "he was alternately either an asshole or not around." He let out a deep breath and moved to sit down, watching the door to the kitchen. "Apparently, when it rains, it pours. I'd like to go talk to Addie tonight, see if Dani isn't making it sound better than it is, and extend the offer. It'll probably take them a week or so to wrap up any business, and I want to be sure that that's a pleasant week instead of a hellish one." Relena nodded, not thinking of any particular point to dispute.

Olivia, meanwhile, chuckled. "Not to mention you'll have at least one, maybe two body doubles living in the same house as you. Once the neighbors get used to seeing them all the time, if they catch a glimpse of you, they will likely assume it's one of them and not you." Her smile widened into a smirk as she rested her head on one upturned palm. "And if you want to be out and have everyone think you're home, you could ask them to spend time, say, reading near a window in view of the street."

Relena narrowed her eyes at the other woman speculatively. "You were trying to arrange this."

She raised her brows coolly. "I arranged to show you the _possibility_, since I had seen her. I hadn't expected you to immediately insist she ought to _move in_ with you, but," she flicked her eyes to Jake, "I also didn't suspect you had a previous connection to the girl that you might claim." She tilted her head away from her hand. "I feel I must note that I had no idea she had a close-knit family to go with her. In either case, however, such an arrangement would be beneficial to both parties, and cost no one anything just to open the door."

The princess studied the other woman for a long moment before nodding. That fit in with what she had already deciphered of Olivia. While she delighted in complex subtleties the way Dorothy did – she suspected it was a means both noblewomen used to convince themselves they were clever and thereby was simply an exercise in ego-stroking – she seemed to have a very strong focus on mutually beneficial relationships. Olivia… believed in a system working the way it was intended. The redhead would be the first to argue that in an ancient feudal system, if a lord behaved properly, there was nothing wrong with serfdom – both parties benefited from the arrangement. She would instead argue that the problem with classic feudalism was that there were no decent checks in place to ensure that said lord _didn't_ take advantage and destroy the balance.

So… no, this maneuver was _perfectly_ in line with Olivia's nature. Perfectly mutually advantageous arrangements… and there was a level of comfort to be had in that, however cold it might outwardly appear. It was something she was beginning to trust that she could rely on… and it was a good trait in an ally. "What did you think of this morning's show?" she asked curiously, her tone purposefully bland.

Olivia smiled and rested her head back in her hand. "My brother demanded I ask you all sorts of searching questions that I had to assure him I could repeat nigh verbatim. They all essentially boil down to him wanting to know how you think he ought to behave towards Milliardo concerning the incident."

"Your familial loyalty is simply astounding," Relena noted dryly.

She rolled her eyes. "When he gets this worked up about something, he desperately overcomplicates it."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Amsterdam**

"Amos got a girlfriend!"

"Did not!"

Nolan just laughed as he dashed around the couch to avoid the other teenager, who looked about ready to smack him. "She's totally your girlfriend!"

Amos looked about ready to _strangle_ his pseudo-brother. "Having a friend that's a girl does _not_ just mean-"

"She bought him a phone!" Nolan appealed to the other Devils in the den.

"It doesn't mean anything!"

"A phone?" Karina asked in surprise, looking up from her crossword.

"A _nice_ phone, with a keyboard and everything," Nolan confirmed.

Amos was blushing furiously now. "It's because she moves around so much that she only gets to talk to her mom and brother," he defended. "She said it was the only way she could stay in touch at all."

"A _long distance_ girlfriend," Robby mused, winking conspiratorially at Nolan. "Even better. There's that whole thing about different area codes, isn't there?"

"You're impossible!" Anika exclaimed, smacking him upside the head as she moved to the kitchen. "Don't teach him your bad habits."

Amos was even redder now, and he grit his teeth. "She _isn't_ my girlfriend." The statement was half growl.

Rina picked up on the fact that he was actually bothered about the teasing and tried to sooth the boy's ego. "There's nothing wrong with it, whether she is or isn't," she assured him. "Like you said, if she's rich enough that buying you a phone was easy convenience, then I'm sure that's all she meant. From what I heard her say while she was here, she doesn't really have any friends except her brother, and he's family." She couldn't help but smile at him as she noted, "You have to admit that you two get on like two peas in a pod, though. I bet she _does_ like you."

The fifteen-year-old, who had started to calm, glowered at her. "She's _twelve_." Forcing a deep breath, he reaffirmed, "She's twelve, brilliant, way cool, and she's my _friend_."

…And the girl probably did like him, but there was no reason to try to continue the argument. Rina was debating how to end the conversation on a comfortable note when a catchy but odd bit of music started to play.

It was coming from Amos' pocket.

"Better answer that," Nolan sing-songed, then bolted out of the room before the other boy could retaliate.

Amos glared at them all and pointedly headed for the door that led outside as he pulled the phone out. "I'm going to work."

Rina snickered after he'd left, and she wasn't the only one. Renee looked up at them all from where she was idly playing on a blanket by her mother's feet, curious for a moment, before focusing back on gumming the iced teething ring Kay had bought for her. Pursing her lips and nodding seriously at her, she asked, "It tastes that good, huh baby?" Her little girl gurgled at her happily, and Rina smiled before picking her crossword puzzle back up, tuning out the conversation sparking back up around her as ambient noise. She didn't like to be alone, but she wasn't feeling social either… and it was a good way to relax, being with everyone without having to pay attention. She was off work today, and intent on enjoying it being lazy.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Frankfurt, Germany**

"So what that _means_, is that he's going to be at least a day later than he said," Marlé concluded grumpily. "I'm seriously thinking I'll ditch."

Odin, of course, hadn't been able to really say why he was going to be longer than he'd said, but that wasn't exactly something to tell her new friend. All the same, though, the Sronas were _not_ her mother, and however nice they were, she was rather _done_ with traveling with them. It wasn't like she couldn't take care of herself, and their flight back to Jerusalem was scheduled for the morning.

"You're going to just ditch your grandma?" Amos sounded scandalized.

"Well, really she's Odin's stepmom," Marlé dismissed. "And besides, I haven't told them that Odin said he wasn't going to meet me where he said, yet, so I'd just say we're meeting up the next city over, and let Odin know I took the train back to Amsterdam."

"You're coming back?"

"Well, it's not like I've got anything better to do. I mean, if you'd rather I didn't, I could wander to France or something, but I think I want to be near the ocean, so I'm not staying here." She didn't want to, like, be overbearing or something, but if he was weirded out by her leaving the Sronas to their own devices, she didn't want him thinking he was the reason she was doing it.

"No, I don't mind," he argued. "I just… I have school, and you wouldn't…"

"I'll camp out in my hostel bunk and work on my programs or something when you're busy," she noted. "I think I'm finally really getting somewhere with it, and it's what I'd be doing anywhere. I can do my own thing, Amos, it's just if I'm in the same city, I _can_ visit when you've got time for it. I don't want to put my relatives out telling them, because then they'd cancel their flight and wait here with me instead of going home, because I don't have a ticket." She shrugged a little. "Odin doesn't really care either way, so long as I keep him posted and don't do something stupid." Like getting on the plane with the Sronas. That would count as stupid.

She was going to have to take care of a few things if she was really going to do it, though. "Hey, I'll let you know when I've got a better idea of when I'll get in town, I've gotta do some stuff." It was as good an idea as any other, really. "Catch you later."

"Catch you later," he mimicked quickly, and she hit the disconnect before hopping to her feet to make sure her bag was packed.

It actually didn't occur to her until after she had said her goodbyes to the Sronas, bought her ticket, and was already on a train that she'd never traveled alone before. By then, however, it was a little too late to do anything but blink in surprise at the passing scenery as she tried to decide what that _meant_.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Sudan Base**

It was… nice.

He honestly hadn't expected that, for all that he hadn't thought it would be hard to tolerate; he had managed well enough with people he liked far less in the past. This, though… He'd never been to anything like this.

He was up to almost his shoulders in hot water, which was great on its own, and though there were other people in the giant tub with him, they didn't insist he join their conversations. There was music in the background somewhere, a lap pool full of people, a few TVs, and as many voices as he'd expect in a city square… but beyond proximity, these things didn't appear to be interrelated. Groups mixed and separated as the night went on, and the atmosphere stayed very relaxed.

Nothing was _expected_ of him.

This was not to say he was ignored; soldiers smiled and waved, or raised a glass in cheers, or sometimes trotted over to hop in the tub or insist he try their drink. They respected his boundaries… and some of the drinks were really good.

He considered his current favorite as he took another sip through the green neon straw. Alcohol had never really peaked his attention before, but he was finding it fairly enjoyable, tonight. There were definitely mental effects that came with it, but they were mild, at least at this dose… and despite having less in the way of side effects when compared to any of the painkillers he'd ever taken, it had a startlingly strong numbing effect on the deep throb in his leg. It definitely wasn't something he could use when he needed his full focus, but it might make a pleasant addition on the evenings after he had overextended himself, like tonight. Its ready accessibility only made it that much more useful of a tool.

"Mm, you look happy," Noin muttered as she climbed the stairs into the tub.

Odin smiled. "I'm enjoying this more than I thought I would." He made sure not to be too obvious about it, but another revelation of the evening had been that the bikinis the soldier women wore were… appreciatively distracting. Abdul had happily informed him, upon seeing his attention wander, that so long as he didn't 'gawk like a schoolboy', they wouldn't mind being watched; something about how they would have worn something a little more conservative if they didn't want to attract _some_ attention. Considering his memories of the modest one-pieces he remembered the noblewomen at Relena's Sanc school wearing in the pool, that seemed like a sensible conclusion.

Her hair piled in a messy bun on the back of her head and all her smooth skin and curves open to the world, Noin seemed to be far more… a beautiful stranger, than Relena's aide.

Then again, he supposed he was no more a gundam pilot now than Noin was Captain-General of Sanc. So many things had changed… some irreparably, and some maybe for the better. Too much had happened now to try to trace the decisions back and consider where other paths might have led.

The idea of having a gundam again, though… that had a lot of appeal. He hadn't realized how much he had missed piloting until today, and he knew himself well enough to recognize it was a craving he might never fully sate. He had already started planning out what exercises he needed to add to his daily regimen to recondition his body for the cockpit; it had been the fine manipulation of the foot pedals that pushed him top the point of needing his cane. The motions themselves came to him easily enough, but his muscles just hadn't been ready for the fast, minute repetition required for fast maneuvering. It was just different enough from everything else he did that it made all the difference.

Noin smiled at him as she sank into the water and leaned back into one of the jets with a happy sigh. "You buzzed yet?"

He considered that for all of one second before nodding decisively. "Yes." His senses were definitely compromised and his thoughts were fluid. As the room had not yet begun to spin, he was fairly sure he hadn't crossed over from 'buzzed' to 'tipsy' yet.

She grinned broadly, closing her eyes as she tilted her head back to rest on the edge of the tub. "Always so honest."

He frowned, considering; it was far from the first time she had said that. "There isn't any reason not to be," he defended slowly.

The general didn't open her eyes as she idly trailed the fingertips of one hand over the surface of the water. "It's just nice," she explained, a little smile playing on her lips. "A refreshing change. I grew up surrounded by people always intent on showing only their best, proper, or preset face… I think I've had my fill of mystery and intrigue, however charming. Life provides enough of that to satisfy me, I think, without adding more."

There was something strangely enchanting, graceful, even, about the way she was moving her hand, and he couldn't quite figure out what. "That makes sense." Tilting his head to one side as the pattern changed, he felt the need to note, "I'm not _always_ honest."

She giggled, opening one dark violet eye to glance at him for a moment before resuming her pose. "Oh yes, I haven't forgotten. I've made a point, in fact, to not ask questions that sound like orders." Giggling a little more, she shook her head, resuming her patterns. "Damn cell phone… How _is_ Marlé, by the way? Weren't you supposed to meet back up with her tonight?"

"She went to visit a friend," he explained, still focused on the woman's movements. "She wouldn't have decided to do it if she wasn't comfortable, so she ought to be safe enough. Her instincts are good."

"Good for her," the woman murmured. "The first steps are usually the biggest."

He shrugged, still trying to sort out _why_ her hand was so fascinating. The best he could come up with, however, was that it had something to do with the alcohol in his bloodstream, and that idea was even more disturbing than the notion that… there was something unique… that thought didn't actually go _anywhere_ that made sense, actually.

…Definitely inebriated.

The water swished forward in a small wave as Abdul pushed himself their way, letting himself sink up to his neck. "Sweet Lucrezia," he crooned playfully. "You finally decide to grace us with your presence!"

Not opening her eyes, she used thumb and forefinger to flick water at him. "I was busy socializing with everyone, raising morale and the like," she informed him dryly. "Remind me why I agreed to come do your job for you, please?"

"So I could look manly and important hanging out with the hero of the hour," he returned easily, his tone implying this was pure logic. "This also raises morale, yes?"

She snickered as she opened her eyes to give him an incredulous look before glancing back to Odin. "Can you believe him?"

He blinked, _fairly_ sure the man hadn't been serious, but the expression on the man's face wasn't exactly encouraging in that line of thought. In lieu of anything relevant to add, another phrase of Marlé's came to mind that he was at least fairly sure was true. "I had nothing to do with it."

Abdul laughed uproariously, and Noin pushed him back across the tub with one foot while she dissolved into giggles. Odin smiled, but mostly because they were laughing… he was fairly sure he'd missed something, but was willing to go along with it for the moment. He had a question he had been meaning to ask for a while now that the Maguanac had reminded him of, and it was frustratingly difficult to keep in mind while the other pilot caught her breath.

She had programmed herself into his phone originally as 'Lu', and while during the war he had never been entirely sure what her first name even _was_, she had used it so rarely, he seemed to hear it near constantly now. She had been going on about being plain a minute ago… When she seemed to have calmed herself somewhat, he asked, "Why do they call you Lucrezia?"

"Mm…" She settled her head back on the tub rim again, but kept her eyes open, meeting his. "Why do I call you Heero, Heero?"

…That was a very good question. One he also didn't have a very definitive answer to. Heero Yuy wasn't really… Well, it _had_ really been his name at some point… and it was all he'd ever given her to call him… though actually, he didn't think he'd ever introduced himself, someone _else_ had told her that was his name…

She probably thought it was _actually his name_.

She shook her head and went on; either she decided she wasn't getting an answer out of him any time soon – probably accurate – or it had been a rhetorical question. "I only call you Yuy when we're on a mission, you might have noticed."

…That was a far simpler explanation than he had been expecting. There were a few holes in the theory, however. "But Relena always-"

"I also might have been trying for a bit formality than was necessary in the past," she interrupted with a grimace. "I…" She looked away from him, staring at the far wall. "I wanted… to be seen as something very particular. I spent years moulding myself into that figure… only to realize, up at _Libra_, that I didn't even know what that figure _was_." She offered him a rueful smile and closed her eyes again. "I'd spent so long chasing a fairy tale, I forgot I really only knew maybe a third of the story to begin with. I decided I was done with flights of fancy, and took some time to get my head together… and remembered that before I started sacrificing everything for an ideal dream… I was Lucrezia. And I still am. It just… got a little buried for a while."

That… sounded eerily familiar. They had made him bury who had been during the retraining, forced him to focus on the ideals of emotionless, perfect performance, but by the end of the war… then after… When he had started trying to decide what to do with himself, he had tracked back what he remembered from before Odin had died, and gone back to living by the codes he had been taught as a child. He was more than aware he had even started a mimicry of his old life, teaching Marlé and taking her with him everywhere the way Odin had looked after and taken care of him. And… he was actually enjoying life again.

"Odin," he announced abruptly, sitting up and meeting her eyes.

She blinked and focused on him. "Hm?"

"Heero Yuy is just a name," he explained. "I don't mind it, it's mine too now, but…" He licked his lips. "I'm Odin." That statement either made perfect sense or none at all, he was fairly sure, but hopefully Noin… Lucrezia… could piece the meaning together.

She seemed lost in thought for a moment, turning over the new piece of information in her mind, before smiling and sitting forward to hand out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Odin. I'm Lucrezia."

He laughed, that fantastic bubbling of emotion rising in his chest the same way it had this morning as he ran for Heavyarms. He couldn't explain it… but something had just…

He shook her hand firmly, and as an afterthought offered her his drink, which she grinned and took a long sip from before passing back.

He'd figure it out later.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Jerusalem, Israel**

"Can I help you?"

He didn't recognize the man from before, but that didn't mean anything. He could hear water running somewhere out of sight. "I was hoping I could see Dr. Srona," he announced after a moment. "Is he still in?"

"He is," the man noted, looking them over critically… but not in the typical way, he realized. He wasn't looking down on them… he was looking for injuries, confused at finding none. "Come on in, both of you… If you could tell me what the problem is, I can get what's needed while you talk to him."

Someone turned off the faucet. He could feel muted curiosity… and easygoing resignation, when he focused. Two years ago, he would have had to strain to his limits and only gotten the barest edge of the emotion from such a disciplined mind as the doctor, but for better or worse, his time in the desert had ripped his abilities bloody and screaming into the open. Everyone acted like he had taken in Cory and saved him, but in truth, he didn't think he could say his mind was still intact if he hadn't found the quiet boy's peacefully blank psyche to revel in.

"We're actually not hurt at all," he admitted. "It's been a while, but the Sronas are an old acquaintance, and I was actually just hoping to catch up."

Sam Srona came into his line of sight, drying his hands on some paper towels as he focused on them… and obviously didn't recognize him. Still, it was good to see a face from before; he hadn't known the man more than in passing, but the doctor had treated he and Heero better than anyone else had for over a year before their visit. He had helped them despite the risks, and gone far beyond what his medical code required he offer his patients. "Doctor," he greeted, "It's good to see you." He had been afraid that he wouldn't find the man at all, and he didn't think it would be possible to find his old comrade without anything to build from. "I tried to stop by your house first, but no one was home, so I thought I would try your new office."

The older man frowned. The note about visiting his home was a definite clue, but apparently not enough of one, with how much he had changed. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't quite recall…

He chuckled and shrugged. He hadn't expected the doctor to recognize him, but it still gave him a thrill that he was properly anonymous now. "I was wondering if you would. I grew, and changed." He gestured at his face, offering another hint. "You actually helped with this part, though; my eyes used to be blue, but you provided me with drops to change them." He had debated asking for more of the solution, considering the rather distinct blue flecks scattered throughout his now honey-colored irises, but had decided he liked it; he had changed enough that the peculiarity shouldn't really matter. When the doctor still only appeared to be wracking his mind, he decided enough was enough and added, "My friend stayed with you while his leg healed. I was hoping you could tell me which way he went, once he recovered."

Confusion reigned for another long moment before a spark of sharp disbelief lit the man like a beacon and he took a few steps forward to peer into his face. Quatre let him, unable to help a pleased grin at the reaction. He was more than happy to let the surprised wave of joy wash over him as the man reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace. "It's good to see you!" he exclaimed as Quatre hugged him back. This was more emotion than he had been expecting out of a mere acquaintance, but he could hardly complain. "We'd given you up for dead!" Pulling back, he admitted, "We had hoped, but… he wasn't sure you would have been alright with leaving him behind." He shook his head. "Where are my manners? This is my son-in-law, Matthew. Matt, this is-"

"Katriel," Quatre inserted smoothly, holding out his hand to shake.

"I was going to say Odin's friend, but a name works too," Sam noted, amused.

_Odin._ There was one clue, at least, and would give him something to work off of if they didn't have anything more solid. He wondered why his friend had chosen it, though… he wouldn't have thought Norse mythology was something that would pop into the taciturn soldier's head.

"In any case, the women of the family decided to take a vacation touring through Western Europe, with all the tumult from northern Africa going on," Dr. Srona went on to explain. "We thought it might be best to limit any risks of violence if Colonel Mitchell didn't catch all his stragglers. We've been sleeping in office the past two weeks, but they're due back tomorrow, so we were planning on heading home tonight." He shook his head a little, eyes sketching over him again and again, taking in the new details. "You're welcome to stay the night, if you would like; we have plenty of room for you and your friend."

There was amusement when he focused on Cory, which almost put Quatre's back up, but it wasn't with any of the twisted insinuations that usually accompanied that line of thought. It was decidedly bland and innocent, but still there… in a warm way. There was no way to ask, though, as it wasn't obvious in his facial expression, so he decided to just leave it lie. Cory probably reminded him of someone he cared for. "I appreciate the offer, but we were intending to catch the train north in a few hours." He shifted his weight and shrugged his shoulders. "I was mostly hoping that you had known where Odin intended to head next."

"Ah. That, in particular, is not something I know." _Damn._ "He moves around so much I doubt even _he_ knows beyond a few hours, some days."

Even as his hopes dropped, however, he caught the hint, the implications. He didn't have a chance to probe, however, before the doctor continued. "I don't have his phone number, with the way he goes through them, but Moira does." He grimaced and shook his head. "With the difference in time zones and the current hour, however, I rather doubt she will answer her phone; she's not a woman who wakes easily."

Quatre blinked, stunned, then smiled broadly. "He stayed in direct contact?" He had never even considered that Heero might…

"Well, not originally, but Moira got her hooks in well enough that he came back for a visit a few months after he'd rushed out," Dr. Srona explained cheerfully. "If you still have a few hours, why don't we get ourselves some dinner? If you really must leave tonight, I'm sure you can give me an email address to forward along in the morning?"

"We already ate," Cory admitted, seeming to warm up to the stranger a little.

"Dinner for me and dessert for you?" the man suggested without missing a beat. "I'm certain there's some sort of ice cream decadence stashed away in my freezer." He winked at Quatre. "She insists it's for emergencies."

"Or keeping the peace," Matt noted dryly, crossing his arms. "I've certainly seen it stop what looked to be a hell of a warpath at least twice."

Quatre shook his head, grinning. The doctor's emotions were entirely genuine and as bright as a child's, which was always pleasant, and though the other man seemed more reserved, it was only that his emotions were low-key, not mixed. "I think we would enjoy that."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Brussels – Night**

Before today, Milliardo hadn't believed so much could go so horribly wrong in the span of twelve hours. Barton had beaten him soundly back into Dr. Sanders' frustratingly steadfast, stubborn care. At least that wasn't entirely his own fault, Epyon _had_ been malfunctioning, but the truth was even more bleak than the alternative. China was apparently dropping its isolationist stance for the first time in _millennia_ in favor of his enemies, and he literally couldn't do a thing about it; he had lost his fraction of leverage he had over them this morning, and now had to rely on his sister's graces to deal with them.

He rubbed his tongue hard over the roof of his mouth before realizing he was doing it, and bit the inside of one cheek gently as he grimaced. His head was still spinning from the concussion he had sustained in the cockpit earlier, but Sanders had point blank refused to be put off again.

He would have thought physicians were above resorting to blackmail.

Apparently, however, it was an acceptable method for coping with 'stubborn jackasses who don't understand their limits or know what's good for them'. Milliardo frankly hadn't been cognitive enough to come up with a properly convincing argument for continuing to refuse treatment, especially when the pain was searing lightning hot… but this was… abhorrent.

_Three days._ He'd argued the man into leaving him alone if this didn't go away within three days… surely he could claim that much after the rather spectacular debacle that news crews had managed to get full footage of. _I can write it off as the lingering effects of the concussion._ And hopefully avoid face-to-face contact.

The mop-up in northern Africa was going well, at least. He wasn't even sure where to begin with the problems further south anymore, but clearing out those psychotic anarchists had to be a decent start for sorting out that continent, and in the meantime…

Epyon.

He needed a software engineer. One of the best, who had worked with custom suits before. Unfortunately, he was fairly sure the best were all either dead, at this point, or out for his blood. Not for the first time, he wondered if Treize had had any idea what kind of _nightmare_ he had created in his gundam. Considering the fact that the man had simply given the damn thing away, he was starting to find that possibility more and more likely. Treize had been a superb pilot, but he had decided Epyon was too much for him, while he had had no problems with Tallgeese or its various reincarnations, despite the fact that Tallgeese had a talent for killing its pilot. Wing Zero and Epyon were both just as maddeningly powerful as Tallgeese, but both newer suits had a distinct programming difference from the gundam archetype: Zero.

Epyon was incapable of high-level combat without Zero. Its programming was essentially corrupt.

It hadn't shown up in the diagnostics because on a theoretical level, it was fine. However, once the systems sped up past a certain point, where calculations needed to be made and reacted upon within microseconds depending on the results for smooth movement, there were blatant gaps several milliseconds wide.

The best analogy his diagnostic team had been able to give him was that of the old Blackbirds, the spy planes before technology had sorted out metals capable of resisting thermal expansion. On the ground, it was incomplete, with gaps between the plates that made it whole; but flying at Mach III, the metal expanded and made the plane perfectly capable where otherwise it would have been falling apart.

Zero was meant to fill those gaps in Epyon's coding, because even with modern technology as it was, the untapped power of the human brain outperformed the greatest processors. Zero's unique ability to interface directly with the pilot's brain, sync with it, and turned the mind into a probability supercomputer was what made it so unstoppable.

Unfortunately, dark, psychotic urges and distance variables were equally valid data; it just didn't know enough about the human mind to differentiate the two.

Milliardo could never trust himself under the influence of Zero again. Not after what had happened last time. He needed solid programming to fill the gaps… and considering the damage the battle at _Libra_ had done to him, he needed to craft something with better variations in considering the G forces exerted on the pilot than Tallgeese had used.

He had people working on it, but it was… a disaster as bad as not realizing the problem before trying to fight a gundam with it. Ideally, the information was out there for the taking somewhere, but he had no guarantee Wing Zero hadn't been crafted on the same principle. And even if it did exist, he had put relatively little effort into counter-intelligence since his rise to power. Too many would like to see him fall, and he was no tyrant, capable of instilling fear so strongly into the survivors of his madness that they would be too terrified of repercussions to revolt. Perhaps in his circumstance that was a weakness, but not one he would ever wish he was without. He might have done something monstrous, but he was _not_ a monster.

Some things simply had to be done.

He looked up when the door clicked open without a knock, and eyed his general appraisingly. "Lee." He looked… _Ah._ If it didn't feel so surreal as fate, he might have had the urge to laugh. _Of course._ "Where?"

The man closed his eyes for a moment, then shut the door behind him and strode forward to slap a folder onto his desk. "L1-X16426. All we have are a few images from a nearby satellite as proof of the invasion. All contact otherwise, lost."

Milliardo leaned forward and opened the folder, glancing at the flipping few the first few pages as he ignored the odd way they felt on his fingertips, then focusing on what he already knew: L1-X16426 was one of his more important midrange bases, a perfectly positioned relay. _An excellent first strike._ Of course, it would be. "How wide is our blackout?" Twelve clusters, at least.

"Thirty-eight colonies confirmed, fifty-three overdue and suspected."

Milliardo nodded. Six colonies to a cluster… _Fifteen confirmed. Sixteen likely._ That would keep them neatly concealed at the core of it all… With outside communications cut, literally anything could be happening in there, and with that wide of a bubble…

Sometimes, he despised space.

"We're lucky they missed their timing on the shots, or we wouldn't know what was in there at all," Lee muttered, but his cheek twitched as he said it.

Normally, Milliardo would have let it go, but he just didn't see the point in dancing around the subject, leading into the possibilities. "You don't believe that."

He closed his eyes and jerked his chin to one side in concession, but didn't bother apologizing. "No. The rest of the execution was too perfect. The preparation this took… either these images were unavoidable in order to accomplish a simultaneous goal, or-"

"It's a declaration," Milliardo finished tiredly, letting the papers drop back to the first thermal image in the stack. A solid formation of carriers, perfect, even… and something else he couldn't begin to identify that was flying under its own power. It was a firm statement… almost artfully so.

"We shall need to craft a suitable response, then," he murmured, resisting the urge to rub at his eyes.

"…You should get some sleep, sir."

Milliardo nodded. "You as well. We've got our work cut out for us in the morning."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 2****nd**** 198 – Wednesday – Prague**

_Treize, you sly son of a gun_, Sally mused fondly, trying not to laugh outright. _This has you written all over it, but you knew he wouldn't see the truth of it. You'll hide out in the open now, and make him come to you._

If he'd been standing in front of her, Sally could have kissed the man. A feint, a taunt, hints of intrigue that reeked of power… If they were lucky, Marquise would fall for it hook, line, and sinker before recognizing the unique flair of his "dead" friend. And if Treize kept to himself in space until the situation stabilized enough on both sides to bring in liaisons, that meant she could stop worrying so much about counter-ops, and possibly kicking over his sandcastles on accident. He still had infiltrated just about everywhere, she could assume, but she gave people a chance to run as a matter of course – Lucrezia still had nightmares of watching her students' dormitories burn to the ground. Sometimes that sort of tactic couldn't be helped, but Sally found collateral damage appalling at best and thus believed it a last resort best abandoned in all but the most extreme circumstances.

Ramming _Libra_ with _Peacemillion_ had been one such circumstance; the entirety of the planet would have died if they had held back, there.

In truth, however, she had lived through far too many of those situations in her twenty-five years, both in her homeland and elsewhere. Hell, she'd met Lucrezia in a damned gory situation… but at least in that instance, they had all been soldiers. Warriors died – it was part of the career path they tried to cover with frills, but it was a simple fact that you had to either accept or go mad with when you joined up. The majority of people out there, however, hadn't signed up for any of that shit… and yet they were right in the middle of it.

In any case, Treize had presented an ideal solution for the time being, and she was perfectly sure he'd gift-wrapped it for her as much as he had his old subordinate. He'd stay in his sandbox, and she in hers; they'd talk once their castles were a little less fragile. And in the meantime, they were able to work a hell of a pincer without any coordination whatsoever.

She'd gotten worse presents before.

_oOo_

* * *

**_oOo_**

**_End Revival_**

**_oOo_**

* * *

** Thoughts? Theories? If anyone wants to see why Sally's age isn't canon, please see the rant I'll post below… If you don't care, then hey, Sally's older than the majority of the main characters, whatever. Personally, I really loved this chapter on practically all points… Odin and Lucrezia rather ran away with it, but Relena screeching at Zechs' general makes me grin every time I look back to it too. **

** Okay, sorry on the timing. I mentioned my generic excuses above, and then I wanted to finish the chapter with Treize, but he wouldn't cooperate, so eventually I had to give over and bring in Sally instead. Also, I'm no longer doing school at the same time, which is a hell of a relief. I was seriously trying to figure out enough time to **_**sleep**_** for a while there, let alone do anything for myself. **

** In other news, I sat and outlined events through chapter fourteen, so I'm not having severe issues with clashing events anymore, and that was the main thing slowing shit down. Story's finally rolling… and my hand is **_**mostly**_** healed… I'm still working my ass off, but I've taken to handwriting story stuff while I'm at work. Actually manage to horrify a few patients with my psychotically small handwriting as I worked 6 chapter outlines on a single page… Seeing as the next three chapters are planned literally scene-by-scene now, and the ones following are nearly to that point, this should finally start going faster. I'll try to have the next chapter out in under a month. Though, if I fuck up my hand **_**again**_** it might take longer… at least I'm no longer constantly zonked on pain meds in order to function at all… opiates and writing are **_**not**_** good writing buddies unless you're writing a tyrant who's trying his damndest to not be zonked out… which **_**did**_** work startlingly well… though I think I was drunk as well as on medication when I wrote that scene… Believe me, coming back to the typos the next day was hilarious and terribly sad all at once. **

** I really love to hear from you guys… and I'm **_**really**_** damn sorry I've been so slow. I **_**will**_** get this story up here, damnit… and I promise, it'll be worth the read… though possibly not the wait, considering how long it's already taken me. I find it bloody embarrassing, if that makes it any better.**

_**oOo**_

* * *

_**oOo**_

_**Sally Rant**_

** I have some overall issues about Sally. The canon says she's a medical doctor. It also introduces her as being nineteen. But, okay, a lot of people in this universe are damn far in their careers at a young age, I mean, Treize is leading OZ at twenty-four, and Une is supposed to be the same age as Sally, Noin, and Lucrezia, and no one bats an eye at their ages, so this is fairly normal. That might also be why they're willing to take Relena as seriously as they do at some points of the show, except for the fact that it seemed fairly clear she was in **_**high school**_** during the show, but hey, we never saw the actual schoolwork (did we? I haven't seen the show in forever…) so they could even be more at a college level, which would make sense with the school being so politically oriented and specific in a lot of ways, and it might make sense why all those people had no issue sending their teenagers off to Relena's school. That or there are both early/fast tracks to follow for careers if you really know what you want at eleven years old, and then there's what we would consider more normal of an education track. **

** Thing is, Sally was a medical doctor when she was in Episode Zero, in 194, at 18, supposedly, and she apparently had also already specialized because she just transferred to the South J.A.P. Point medical facility where it first shows her in the show because Heero was taken there – where Duo rescues him and they jump out that 50 story window – one year later, and she's pretty high up. Residency, I don't care how condensed, is going to take a minimum of three years, so we have a ****doctor at age fifteen****, apparently. Say they condense current medical school by ditching all things not immediately necessary to understanding the body and cut it down to three years instead of four, from a little above average high school education, that means she ****got into medical (or at least the Alliance military version of it) school at thirteen****. And far more academic proficiency is required to be a doctor and understand just the conceptual so forth of the body workings than to go be a soldier, so she had to have spent more time and study at it, so even if she's finished their version of high school at eleven… eleven-year-old brains, just in terms of development, are only barely reaching the level where they are capable to ****begin**** understanding highly conceptual stratagems like those involved in chemistry or advanced biology or a lot of kinds of math. That sort of set-up for medicine wouldn't work unless you're dealing with a genius, and Sally is point blank never vaguely suggested as being extraordinary beyond her ability to lead and pull off what she wanted to do with kinda shitty resources. **

** Therefore, I'm making Sally a bit older, because I think this is kinda like the random date swapping surrounding Mariemaia where the creators were being really stupid with their timeline and not doing any research whatsoever. ****She's twenty-three at the start of the show****, finished residency at twenty-two and went out on the Sanitation Squad bit she was on in Wufei's Episode Zero, graduated medical school at nineteen, started medical school at sixteen. I'm sorry, I was pre-med and I'm still hip deep in medicine, and the previous timeline is just stupid and laughable. ****Seeing as it's now late 197, she's twenty-five, while Zechs, Noin, and Jake are twenty-one and Treize is twenty-six.**** The increased age and would also make sense as to why she has more control and respect from her troops, especially if they all start so young as Zechs, Noin & co.**


	8. Circling Back

_**Circling Back**_

_The Past: our cradle, not our prison. There is danger as well as appeal in its glamour. The past is for inspiration, not imitation, for continuation, not repetition._

_–Israel Zangwill_

* * *

_But the development of human society does not go straight forward, and the epic process will therefore be a recurring process, the series a recurring series – though not in exact repetition._

_–Lascelles Abercrombie_

* * *

**oOo**

**I'm sorry, but you probably want to backtrack to the last chapter before you read this, just because of how long it's been… This just hops right back in where the last left off.**

* * *

**July 3****rd**** 198 – Thursday – Munich, Germany – Sarracenia – 6:40am**

Relena gestured at Jake that she was done, setting down her gun and wiping at the sweat that had built up on her brow. According to the clock, they'd been in the range for over an hour, which counted for something, seeing as her aim was still at least decent – if not good – but enough was enough. Her entire arms ached, but she went through the motions of ejecting the magazine and checking to be sure there wasn't another round chambered, despite the fact that she'd been counting. She was pleased with herself to see she'd been right, and turned to leave the range while Jake picked up the weapon.

She let out a sigh as she was able to finally pull off the protective glasses and earmuffs and picked up a hand towel left on the table next to the little indoor range to properly wipe the sweat off her face. The longer she let herself think about it, the more her arms felt like jelly… but it was a new record for endurance, at least. She smiled as she noticed that her water bottle was there too, with a sticky note on it from Mu, and reached for it thirstily. She'd stop in the kitchen on her way out to the yard where Mu had started running laps without her; Jake had already mentioned he was skipping the run today to work with some of the newer recruits.

"Morning, Lena," Vaughn chirped happily at her as he came down the stairs, Carlisle and Illian behind him. The other two men murmured similar greetings, and she waved, still drinking. Taking a break for air, she slung the towel around her neck and pushed her gear into a smaller pile to make room for theirs, then moved for the staircase herself as they finished coming down.

A run sounded good.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Metz, France**

Marlé ripped the tag off her pants and handed it to the cashier with a grin, tugging her sweater back down over her waistband with her other hand; there hadn't seemed to be any point in putting her old ones back on. She was supposed to meet up with Odin in under an hour, but she'd figured he'd rather she ran a few errands without him instead of trying to be early. He hadn't batted an eye about her running around on her own, but she really wanted to see his reaction when he saw her.

She was pretty sure she was almost as tall as he was, now. Not that Odin was tall, but still; five foot five was pretty awesome in her book. Her mom had said that she probably still had a ways more to grow, because she was five eight, and she said her dad had been pretty tall too.

Odin had sounded pretty excited when he called too. She was kinda irked at how he'd put her off for a few days without any explanation then was suddenly trying to get her to rush, but he'd explain it as soon as they met up in person again. Her mom hadn't been as cool with the idea of her going around on her own, and she guessed she might have called Odin up to lecture him about it… but she really doubted that would bother her pseudo-brother. He'd probably just point out that Marlé could mostly keep up with him when he was running full bore, and that she'd gotten pretty good at defending herself when they sparred too.

…And anyone looking for her now was probably looking for a girl way shorter.

She bounced on her toes a little as she finished paying for her stuff and jammed it all into the top of her pack before pulling her coat back on and heading out the door, being careful to make sure the fabric settled casually as she settled her grip on the baton in her sleeve.

Time to find out what Odin had been up to without her. She was getting sick of being left out.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich – Sarracenia – 7:10am**

"Such a good boy… yes you are!"

Relena looked towards her tub in dismay as she came up through the trapdoor to the bathroom, really hoping she wasn't hearing what she thought she was, and sighed. Sure enough, Mai had the giant tub half full of soapy water… with her giant white dog in the middle of it, covered in bubbles.

She didn't even want to _think_ of the disaster that was going to be her office floor when her bodyguard tried to get the sopping wet creature _out_ of the room.

"Good morning, Lena!" the woman greeted cheerfully, looking away from where she was cording soap through the dog's six-inch dreadlocks.

…It really wasn't worth the energy to get mad about until after the mess was there to be fussed over. "Good morning." She'd been planning on scrubbing down and using the onsen anyway. Checking the clock – she'd made decent time despite starting later than usual on her morning run – she went to turn on the water in the onsen then slipped into the normal shower stall and started the water there too before going to lock the door to her office. She'd just wash her hair really fast, and the tub would be full by then, and she'd have her normal amount of time in it despite her morning routine having taken longer than usual.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Metz, France**

"Odin!"

Odin blinked in surprise at the girl even as he half caught and hugged Marlé back, startled… her head settled on his shoulder, instead of against his chest.

…Did it _hurt_ to grow so fast? He was going to have to make her test her limits again, so she knew how far her reach was…

"Not going to say anything?" she pouted as she pulled away.

He couldn't help but frown as the most immediate problem came to mind. "We need to test your tumbles and jumps before you take any heights again."

She rolled her eyes. "Ever practical, Odin. I haven't slacked off, I've been staying in practice. There's a cool little park near Amos' work that the local gang keeps trouble from starting in." She shrugged. "I figured I'd wait for you before I scaled any more buildings, though." She frowned and reached over to touch one finger to his cane, concern lighting up her eyes. "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, glad to know she had noticed the deficit and taken the initiative. "I overextended."

Marlé made a face. "Was it worth it, at least?"

He laughed, the memory alone of the exhilaration making his pulse jump. "Yes." He shook his head a little and turned, gesturing for her to follow. "We're going to go meet an old friend, and he's a ways from here. I'll tell you about the past two weeks on the way."

She practically skipped after him. "Sounds good."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich – Sarracenia – 7:30am**

There was a sound of a fist tapping on wood. "Relena?"

"Mm?" Opening her eyes, Relena smiled; she could see curls of steam rising out of the water around her. "I didn't lose track of time, did I?"

"No, you've only been in there a few minutes," Mu noted, sounding apologetic. "But Hayden just took a call from the capital that your brother's on his way here."

_Well, damn._ Sighing, she unplugged the drain with her toes and stood, reaching for where she'd hung her towel. "I'm getting out. Is Jake busy?"

"He won't be for much longer," the American woman told her. "He set the boys he'd been working with to wash off the gunpowder and just about everyone else to clean up their personal areas and finish unpacking the Fonnes so they look less transient. He said chances were, Milliardo will want to wander a bit, and since we won't know where until he does…"

"Better safe than sorry," Relena agreed, unlatching the door to the onsen and stepping out. "Make sure the trap door is locked, would you?" Mai still had her dog in the tub, but she was scrubbing far more furiously now. Mu's hair was damp from her own shower, though she was fully dressed. Thinking a moment, she decided, "I'll see him in my study. I'm not sure if he's here on business or because he finally realized I moved out, but I might as well try to impress him in either case." Privately, she was glad that Dorothy was working out of her 'townhouse' today; she'd proven herself a powerful ally and good friend, but she wasn't exactly in Milliardo's good graces – she had, in fact, avoided him entirely since Christmas.

Quickly drying off, she strode over to the vanity to get ready. Hopefully, the boys downstairs had a more exact timeframe for her brother's arrival; Sebastian Dontelaine had an appointment in ninety minutes to discuss his workforce distribution. He seemed to think it needed adjustment, and he wanted her opinion on what might be most appropriate… and as it was her first time meeting the new Dontelaine Duke, she had no intention of putting him off because her brother didn't care about her schedule.

She rolled her eyes. The man had probably decided she didn't _have_ one. After all, she was only out here having tea parties, not saving his behind whenever he screwed up…

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Tivoli, Italy**

Lucrezia grinned into her scarf took another deep breath of air, relishing the feeling of walking down the street of her hometown, even if this was an area she had never frequented. It was still too cold to really feel like home, but just seeing the skyline and familiar architecture sated some part of her longing… and it wasn't as cold as last July, at least, for all that it ought to have been sweltering. She was in leggings and jeans, a turtleneck, her scarf, and the light little leather that Heero… Odin… had bought for her. The hat she was wearing probably fought off the cold too, but honestly, she was just wearing it with her hair down as a camouflage, the same as her brown contacts. With the front of her jacket left open and gloved hands tucked into its pockets, she was comfortable.

For what felt like the thousandth time now, she caught a glimmer of purple in the black leather and fell in love with it all over again. It was the kind of style she preferred, and it _literally_ matched both her hair and eyes… and she wondered again how conscious of a choice that had been on Odin's part. She'd been grumbling to herself for poor operational security about her current jacket under her breath, she had thought, but then the next time she'd seen him, he'd handed her the new coat… with colony-manufactured chocolate stuffed in an inside pocket. It would have struck her as a sweetheart gift, if he hadn't been so casual about it. When she tried to dissect the logic on his shipment for Heavyarms – and the damn pink _pony_ – she was fairly convinced that he just preferred that same sort of casual affection her father did. She had asked if he known about something, out on a limb, and he'd responded just by delivering.

With anyone else, she would have said he had pointedly given her more than she could have possibly imagined. With Odin… She shouldn't read too deeply into it.

Although he did have a tendency to just _watch_ her with a focus she hadn't seen directed at anyone else.

She thought about it for a moment before smiling and pulling her phone out of her pocket. Sally had gotten her new information out of the Regime database after Odin had left Africa that she wanted to poke at him about; it probably wouldn't be too hard to meet up somewhere just to talk business. Spotting the bakery she had been looking for, she grinned and picked up her pace.

A little careless affection of her own probably wouldn't be remiss.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Switzerland – In Transit**

Odin stopped when his phone started to ring, then narrowed his eyes at her. Marlé, for her part, just tried to look pleased with herself. If he wanted to think she'd grabbed it and turned the ringer back on when he wasn't paying attention, all the better; it was so much more fun to do it remotely. He'd figure it out before long anyway, so she figured she'd get a kick out of tricking him while she had the chance. After a moment's glare, he just rolled his eyes and answered it. "Hello?"

She couldn't help it – when he smiled like that, her interest was peaked, and her attention was solely on him. "Good." He tilted his head as he listened. "A little." A pause. "Why?" He thought for a moment before, "I need to make it to Macedonia before tomorrow night. If it's en route, it shouldn't be a problem." Another pause where he seemed to think seriously, then, "The 2337 Continental."

Her jaw literally dropped. That was the train they were on! Odin didn't even give her _mother_ their shuttle number, _she_ was the only one he let know, and that was only because she was generally sitting next to him. With how paranoid her brother generally was, that amount of trust was _huge_.

This was big.

"Who was that?" she demanded as soon as he'd hung up.

He gave her a weird look, but he answered. "Lucrezia."

A few things clicked together. A few others didn't, even though they really obviously should. She stared at him, trying to decide how much of this was him being stubborn and how much was just him being _Odin_. He stared right back, looking a little disturbed… and definitely defensive.

_Nope._ She wanted to scream, but as frustrating as he could be, that would only make him _more_ confused. He was just… Just _Odin_.

She just glowered at him, annoyed that he didn't even _get_ what he was doing.

Finally, "What?"

"You _suck_."

"…What?"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich – Sarracenia**

"Milliardo," Relena murmured pleasantly, reaching out to pull him into an embrace. "It's good to see you again, brother." He returned the hug before she gently pulled away and gripped both his hands in hers with a smile. "It's been too long." Breaking away completely, she gestured for him to follow her. "Come; I have a guest in my office, and it would be rude to keep him waiting."

"Of course."

He had had a speech, a lecture, all planned to the T before he had arrived. It had been carefully balanced to express how he was grateful for her help, but disappointed with her secrecy. He knew he had been busy lately, but she had stopped even giving him personal reports; and in the instances where her projects were strictly funded by RLTT, she didn't tell him of her progress at all. The militia, the hydroponics facilities, and now the entirety of the heat amplifier industry… she hadn't even told him she had left Brussels permanently. The notion of how much _else_ she might be up to was… daunting. He needed to nip that in the bud – he couldn't afford to pull her out of trouble once she got in over her head. She had an uncanny ability for finding danger… even _with_ Miller as her watchdog. Now, for better or worse, he _needed_ her for relations with the Chinese, and any more mistakes on anyone's part could vary well have dire consequences. He had backed each of his points thoroughly, and rehearsed the phrasing in his head for over an hour.

When he had arrived, however…

Jake had met him by the car and walked him through the house security while Relena wrapped up a conference call, and he hadn't been able to help but be impressed. The men accompanying him had been politely relegated to the guardhouse with the quiet explanation that Miller would rather nonresidents didn't know the house layout. The tour had managed to extend beyond the security precautions to the courtyard and chicken coup before Relena had found them.

He almost hadn't recognized her.

All his intended words had simply died in his throat as he met the eyes of a woman he could have sworn was his mother. Instead of crafting his balance between censure and praise, he couldn't stop his whirling focus from desperately debating why it was that she was practically their mother's clone and he their father's, instead of some mix. The only clear differences he could discern were that of hair length and the knowledge that Katrina would never have willingly worn such sensible shoes as Relena's flats – it had always been either delicately spun high heels or nothing.

"Are you hungry?" Relena asked, flowing grey skirt swirling gently around her calves as they entered the kitchen. "We just finished lunch, but I could have something made for you."

"No, thank-you," he murmured, looking around the very… royally purple room. There was a blonde woman wearing an apron doing dishes at the sinks, singing under her breath in a duet with the radio next to her. A small child bounced idly in some sort of noisy chair contraption on the floor next to her, banging colorful toys together.

"Through here, then," his sister announced, leading him into what appeared to be a _pantry_ of all places… and a staircase.

Jake caught his look and grinned. "Rather clandestine, isn't it?"

"I think the architect had a rather curious sense of humor," Relena noted, "but I won't deny how much personality it gives the house." She let out an ironically amused noise. "With a direct route like this, I certainly can't be waylaid by confused attackers while I'm off for a midnight snack."

Milliardo closed his eyes as her words burned in his chest like a brand. Of course, _his_ enemies had hurt her that night because he had been too trusting a fool with his security… enemies who had chosen that night because she was supposed to have been out of country at the time.

Perhaps it _was_ wise for them to live separately.

He glanced back at his friend and found the colonel watching him speculatively. The other man raised both brows in a too calm question when Milliardo met his gaze.

He had no idea what it was.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Sebastian," Relena called out happily as she opened the door at the top of the three flights of stairs. "I'm afraid it couldn't be helped." Moving to the opposite end of the dark-paneled room, she palmed a keypad and opened a door into bright sunshine. As she led them into her atrium turned lounge, he didn't try to hide the delight that stole across his face. It was as though they had stepped outside, and he could see the picturesque grounds and town laid out around them, the blue skies above… except that unlike outside, it was warm. It took his breath away.

He loved it and felt his heart tear into smaller pieces at the same time.

An elegant hostess, Relena led them over to a set of couches facing each other with a coffee table between them. A delicately designed tea service rested on a tray. "Please, sit." She did so herself as she gestured for them both to take a seat across from her, and leaned forward to pour. "I'm sure the two of you have met, but for the sake of formality, Sebastian, I would like to introduce my brother, Milliardo Peacecraft." Handing him a cup of what smelled like jasmine tea, she continued with, "Milliardo, this is Sebastian Dontelaine. We were discussing what resources he might be able to reallocate for defense or reconstruction, should the violence continue to escalate."

He nodded, unable to bring himself to respond verbally. He was focused on trying to keep his hands from visibly shaking as he gazed at the china cup in his hand.

He hadn't been aware that his mother's tea set had survived the sacking of the palace.

Maintaining appearances, he brought it to his lips and took a sip to collect himself as he refused to allow his attention to fall back to the coffee table, instead busying himself with trying to determine the weave and fabric of Relena's white blouse… and listened.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Berlin – Downtown**

William Mehile blew into his coffee, cold hands wrapped around the cup. It was his day off, and it had been a good morning so far. His kids were keeping a phone now, and he had gotten to talk to Nolan before he headed to school, however briefly. Melissa seemed happier than ever…

He grinned. His son-in-law made a good husband, he gathered. Not that he'd ever doubted – his little girl had always had good taste.

He worked hard to keep his bills as low as he could, which meant the only electronics he kept besides the phone were his tablet, coffee pot, and the heater that came with his little one room cubbyhole. He hadn't felt like reading after this morning's call, so he had thought he'd wander down to the big screens for public use downtown. He'd catch up on the latest news… which was a lot of propaganda, but the freedom of press hadn't been too deeply subdued either. From what he knew through his connections, the news was still more accurate than it had been during the war. He point blank hadn't let his kids watch the crap, back then.

He had been watching for maybe twenty minutes when they finally stopped harping about the danger posed by increasing gundam attacks and why it was so important to know your evacuation schedule to focus on the chunk of L1 that had gone incommunicado. The claim was that it was due to old equipment and technological difficulties, and that teams were being sent up today to help put things back to rights.

William snorted, and he could hear from the crowd around him that he wasn't the only one thought that was a sack of shit. L1 was arguably the most technologically advanced country in existence, and sixteen clusters was… just huge. They varied in size, but the average urban colony was as big as a small city, though far more sparsely populated. Agricultural colonies were generally larger, as the hydroponics systems became far more complex. These days, the hybridized types were the most common, at least in the nicer areas, and a few of those had been included in the now silent ninety-six colonies. That was about a quarter of L1 altogether, and in terms of area lost, at least as big as Austria.

The biggest worry, probably, was that they had decided to recede from the planet's problems through isolation. It would hardly be a new tactic for the colonies… for all that, considering the fate of Dekim Barton's attempted secession, it was unlikely they thought they could get away with it. Even though he had decided to leave out the details after Mariemaia's disappearance, Marquise had squashed Barton's rebellion very publicly and, to the unseasoned eye, very thoroughly. That kind of thing discouraged repeat offenders. Dekim had gathered himself a nice little military force to pull it off, and the public had been told that. The fact, however, was that the dissolution of the group hadn't really had a chance to enter the battlefield; Treize had neatly pulled the entire organization apart at the seams before the Regime troops arrived. Only the Barton die-hards and the slow had still been there, and the fighting had been more token than anything.

If L1 was seceding, then they probably thought themselves plenty prepared. Will presumed that his Excellency either knew the truth or was at the core of it. However, he also point blank knew that he was very low on the totem pole; if he needed to know, he would be told, and not before. As it was, he couldn't say whatever was happening in space now had much to do with his life.

He shrugged deeper into his scarf and raised his mug for another sip, idly debating-

Heat. Darkness and a sudden feeling of being pushed, of weightlessness… Then the solid pressure of slamming into the ground.

He blinked in confusion, trying to clear his vision, but it stayed blurred, and the pavement was numbingly cool against his cheek. Why was-

His heart slammed as reality caught up with him and he shoved himself up off the ground, though he only made it partway to his knees before his back gave and he went back down. He managed to catch himself on his hands, at least. His chest heaved air in, and out… and he tried to just focus on his hands, trying to see the wrinkles of his knuckles. _In, and out…_ There was something blue between his hands… he squinted hard… and closed his eyes as he realized what it was and an itching burn began to crawl across his back. He knew, intellectually, that he was just in shock, but… He didn't care when the tears fogged his eyes back up.

Melinda had made that mug for him before Melissa was born.

He gasped out a sob as fire seared through his back and his arms shook until he fell down to his elbows. His hands were red with blood… the pavement glittered like a thousand diamonds. _Glass…_ There was glass everywhere, falling off his hat and shoulders like crystal snow…

Dimly, he realized people were running all around him… and everything was too quiet. He could hear… probably screaming… he could _see_ someone screaming… but… it was like it was from a block away, not next to him. He toppled to one side as his shoulder shuddered and gave out, then froze, staring up.

Fire.

The sky was on _fire_.

He gasped for more air, realizing he'd stopped for a bit there. _In, out. In… Oh God._ The sky _couldn't_ be on fire… _Look around…_ He let his head drop to the ground. God, it was so _hot_… the cold ground against his face was the kiss of an angel, even as the bite of the glass shards began to burn his cheek. Fighting to keep his eyes open, he tried to look around…

_Oh God._

He wasn't the only one on the ground.

He didn't think they were moving.

…It was getting harder to breathe…

…Panic was _not_ going to help.

Focusing hard on the body nearest him, he willed it with all his being to move. _Move. Breathe… In… Out. In…_

It felt like an eternity. Hours, at least.

Someone shook his shoulder hard, and he felt his scream more than he heard it. His eyes flew open… Someone was in his face, yelling at him, gesturing…

_What the hell?_

He couldn't help but scream again as the man hefted him and literally threw him over his shoulders and started running. _God…_ That made the edges of everything fade black… Everything else was grey and… fire.

_The sky!_ Grey… _Oh._ The building had exploded, not the sky. That… that was good…

His back was still burning, but he started to shiver, hard, and it was just too damn hard to keep his eyes open…

_God… What…?_

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich – Sarracenia**

"Here," Relena muttered, sliding a folder across the coffee table. "I was going to have a courier run this over to you today, but this works out better. If you can read through and sign, we can save everyone some trouble."

He seemed to hesitate a moment, but he pulled it to him and began to rifle through its contents without comment. That was something of a relief… yet also not. He had been considerate enough to follow her lead while they had had an audience, but now that Mu was leading Olivia's brother back to his car, she doubted he was going to be so pleasant.

She was sick and tired of playing meek and defensive with him, though. He had come to _her_; if he wanted to play games, he would realize she had the homeland advantage.

"Are you doing alright?" she asked after a moment. He looked perfectly normal, but she had learned some time ago how much some men could hide with formal posture, especially those so still and measured, deliberate, as Milliardo.

He gave her one of the smiles he seemed to save just for her. "I'm fine, Relena. I apologize for the spectacle the other day, but fortunately my pride took all the injury." Pausing, he seemed to debate with himself for a moment before setting her folder aside and crossing his legs. "Friday morning was actually one of the things I was hoping to discuss with you."

Relena raised her brows delicately and leaned back as though at lease, crossing her own legs smoothly. "As I have already explained, the amplifier contract was officially broken when you impugned Chinese territorial borders by means of MS without warning, let alone consent." Pursing her lips gently, she added, "I have also been informed that by the wording of your treaty with them, the exception your forces claimed to be following could only hold in the instance of violent pursuit. Instead, you instigated an attack on foreign ground, and now they want to boycott all _friendly_ interests from us in that region as well."

"It's a pretty threat, Relena, but they cannot afford such action."

She let a degree of irritation show in her eyes. "Respectfully, big brother, we're talking about _China_, who has happily starved over half of her population for poor idealism on numerous occasions. Additionally, the pieces of Africa they claimed from you are nothing but claimed territories; _recently_ claimed, at that. If there is benefit to them, I don't doubt that they will negotiate, but frankly," she leaned forward as far as she could, though she kept her muscles casually relaxed, "if you continue to piss them off, they will do it just to spite. They have little they truly _value_ to lose, and you have already seen how fast the press will take an opportunity to smear you."

He didn't respond to that. After a moment, Relena relaxed back into the couch and waited for him to break his gaze. When it became clear that he had no intention of doing so, she gave him a subtly irritated look, uncrossed her legs, and went back to her paperwork. That only lasted a moment, however, as she had caught up on her more extraneous red tape last night, and everything she needed for the afternoon was packed in her case, as she was scheduled to head to Croatia in an hour. Lips quirking in spite of herself, she instead picked up the folder she had handed Milliardo and began displaying it for him according to topic and project. When she looked back up at him and found his eyes still on her, she lost her patience and threw out a challenging smile as she held out one of her better fountain pens.

"I thank you for the visit, Milliardo, but I have work to do." Pushing down another wave of irritation when he didn't take it, she set it down on his papers pointedly and stood. "Excuse me." She moved briskly for the bathroom door, entered smoothly, shut it gently, and fought the urge to scream. It would be therapeutic, but highly detrimental when she was still within his hearing. Looking up, an irritated thanks on her tongue for Mai's having waited and _not_ brought a massive, dripping wet dog through her office in the middle of _that_, she froze and blinked.

There wasn't anyone else, canine or otherwise, in the bathroom.

Frowning, she strode over to the door that led to Dorothy's suite, but no…. the manual deadbolt on this side was still thrown, and Mai didn't have a key. Moving back to the center of the room, she realized there weren't any puddles either… though the trap door for the spiral staircase down into her closet was sitting open. Peering down, she reconsidered the rather narrow width of the thing… and lack of any dampness.

Smiling brightly to herself, she shut the hatch and set her hands on her hips, surveying her altogether spotless bathroom. _Okay… Mai magicked the dog out._ It was an amusing enough idea that she almost didn't want to know the truth. Looking over towards the vanity, she tossed her hair a little and smiled at her reflection.

She… had really needed that, she decided.

Taking a fortifying breath, she walked back into her office. Milliardo had stood and was facing the door, eyes apologetic as he grimaced. She brushed past him to her computer – and rather conveniently, it chimed out a notice for her as she did so.

"Relena…"

"Yes, Milliardo?" She didn't turn, focusing instead on opening a browser on the news, more out of habit than anything else.

"…I'm going to space, this evening."

She hummed out a thoughtful noise. "I thought you might, soon." Stopping what she was doing, she turned and rested her weight on the edge of her desk. "I hope you have an outline for me on the immediate lines of authority, should you be unavailable."

"Yes." He gave her a tired smile. "I had been planning to bring it up over lunch, but I've assigned you the post of Foreign Affairs Minister."

She blinked in surprise before giving into a delighted smile, wondering if maybe now things would begin to change. "Thank-you."

His returning smile was more of a grimace. "The Chinese were very clear that you were the only acceptable option," he explained wryly.

Her gratitude wilted and died mere instants after its birth. "I see."

His mouth set in a firm line. "Relena, you need to realize how vital this position is. I know that you-"

"Learned the intricacies of handling foreign affairs at my father's knee?" she cut off sharply. Pushing away from the desk and advancing on him, she acidly corrected, "Oh, I'm sorry, at Vice Foreign Minister Darlian's knee. He couldn't have possibly been a workaholic who could only afford to spend quality time with his foster child if she was helping draft contracts and treaties."

"Relena-"

"And of course there isn't any reason I might recognize the dangers of such a post, seeing as I was _with_ him when he was _assassinated_!" She glowered at him, knowing she ought to control her temper, but just beyond caring. It felt _good_ to see him standing there stunned.

The acoustics in her antechamber chirped; they were about to have company.

Taking a deep breath, Relena collected and centered herself. Fixing him with a steady gaze, she quietly said, "Some days, Milliardo, you have the sheer nerve of ten men and the sensitivity of a raging _bull_."

She wasn't going to apologize.

Jake threw the door open, and both siblings turned to find his expression was grim. Her anger skyrocketed into alarm. "What's happened?" she demanded.

"Someone bombed the Regime administrative buildings in Berlin."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Verona, Italy**

"Hey, sweetie." Her mother sounded distracted. "What's up?"

"Odin ditched me again." She had no qualms about outright wailing pitifully at her mother if it helped, right now. She was feeling downright rejected, and the fact that that wasn't how Odin meant it wasn't making her feel any better. "I don't get why I'm not allowed to meet his friends."

Leia sighed. "They're _really_ good at making trouble, honey, and I don't want to risk you getting mixed up with you brother's… more questionable hobbies, if we can help it."

Marlé rolled her eyes. "I get that, but he's being _social_ with them too, you know."

"Did he say that?" her mother asked dryly.

She made an irritated noise. "I _know_ him, Mom. And he _trusts_ her!"

"Her?"

_He __**talks**__ to her!_ That wouldn't sound right, though. "He's either talking _to_ her, or about her," she went on in a rush, feeling pent up about it all. "He gets her stuff just because he can." He had insisted on going to two separate colonies plus a resource satellite to put together the gundam care package he had sent down, and it turned out she hadn't _actually_ asked for it. "When she calls, he just drops everything."

For Odin to smile like that whenever she came up… for him to stay a few days longer with her to make her feel better about him messing up his leg again… It meant that he was thinking about her _all the time_, including her like he really only did Marie, and…

And Odin only _included_, Marie. He _went out of his way_ for this woman.

And Marie didn't even know who she _was_.

The rest of it didn't really bother her, she'd decided while sitting there refusing to talk to him on the train. It was the fact that she'd _missed_ it, even if Odin hadn't figured out what he was even doing yet. It was the fact that she was _still_ missing it, because apparently she was the only one who'd realized how important it was. Odin just… didn't _do_ things like anyone else, so… that meant this really meant something.

It was irritating that she had to keep separate from half of the stuff Odin did now, but she got why he and her mom were doing it, even if she thought it was stupid. She went along with it. This though… she needed to _meet_ Lucrezia.

Her mother sighed. "Context is everything, Marlé."

"It's not just time-dependency," Marlé argued, because that had been what she thought at first too. "I checked." And Odin didn't procrastinate, but he wasn't one of those obsessive go-getter types either; he took care of stuff when it was convenient. The fact that he'd made her sprint with him to a _toy store_ because he'd forgotten what time they closed was _highly_ relevant to that argument. Not even getting into the fact that they hadn't _actually_ had _any_ time constraint or expectation about all that.

Her mother sighed again. "I'll talk to him about it-"

"Thank-you!"

"-_if_ he brings it up."

…Yeah, that wasn't happening.

"But-"

"Dr. Keissler!" someone called in the background.

"I have to go," her mother muttered quickly. "Call me later tonight, okay?"

Click.

Marlé glowered at the phone as it registered the disconnection. Her mother worked in emergency medicine, and it was actually pretty normal for her to not be able to finish a conversation with her if she was on shift. It was 'emergency' medicine for a reason, after all. That didn't make it any less irritating when she hadn't gotten her point across, though. Sighing and tucking it into her pocket, she looked around, debating.

…Odin would _so_ catch her if she tried to sneak up and spy on his little meeting.

Growling, she yanked her phone back out and plopped down on the curb, starting a half serious text to Amos.

_'any idea how to make a voice changer?'_

She really doubted she could pull it off, but trying to figure it out would make her feel better.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Pyrohy, Ukraine**

It was a beautiful manor… The house itself was regal, and the grounds picturesque, massive lawns with a large pond. The gate was of an older style, meticulously crafted wrought iron, and everything looked well taken care of. There were a few pieces of playground equipment, and a large ball or two, littered across the grounds… at least one child lived there. There was no sign of a dog, though, that he could see.

She had never liked dogs, however, so he wasn't surprised.

Cory shifted his weight, and finally spoke. "Are we going to go in?"

Quatre sighed. "No." He would love to, really, but there would hardly be a point. Certainly, he could meet his niece or nephew, and perhaps even his brother-in-law, but… He had no evidence of his identity, as he had never met them… and the silvery artemisia brush surrounding the gates spoke volumes. Even from this far back, he could see the bright red and yellow blooms along this side of the greenhouse, and he knew, with the fairly large bushes closer to him, that if he had a pair of binoculars, he would confirm that they were zinnias.

His sisters had a number of habits and codes they all used, and one of their favorites had always been flower language.

Wormwood for absence… the silvery white artemisia species for long-term intentions.

The yellow-flame zinnias confirmed the same, in a sort of 'I'm thinking of you, think of me' way.

She wasn't here, and from the look of the riotous population in the window boxes and the size of the artemisia bushes, she hadn't been for some time. He couldn't remember enough to know if any of the other plant species he could spy from the gate added more meanings, gave any more detail… but they all kept flowers corresponding to mood or ideals as well, so he could easily get lost in the muddle of that even if he _was_ knowledgeable enough. They had only insisted he learn the dozen or so they signaled danger or status with.

"Let's go," he muttered, turning back towards the path. It was best to leave before the residents decided to make something of the stranger peering through the gate.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Berlin – Charité Hospital**

_"Hoi."_

"Mm? Oh…" Brenda smiled brightly at the man who had just come up to the counter. She had had a constant line for hours earlier, but now, while it was still noisy, everyone was leaving her area of the hospital alone. After all, she was only administration. She still had an hour before she was off shift, though, however exhausting and awful today had been… and this guy didn't look upset, which was a nice change of pace. The fact that he very much qualified as eye candy was nice too. Of a good height, with a decently filled out chest under a tight sweater, he looked lean but well built, with a sweet face and a thick, dark blonde ponytail falling over one shoulder and trailing over her countertop. He had the kind of deep blue eyes a girl could drown in and the smile of a charmer.

Leaning forward, willing to flirt a _little_ on the job, she returned the greeting. "Hi."

Amusement glimmered in his eyes as he shifted his weight so he was resting on one arm, casually leaning half-sideways on the counter. "I don't suppose you could tell me if William Mehile is ready for release yet?"

Mm… his accent, and the greeting too, for that matter, were definitely Dutch. "Just a minute," she told him, turning to the computer. Seeing the patient's date of birth flash up as she confirmed what file she wanted, she asked, "Is he your father?" It was an easy way to break the ice.

That charming smile was a touch apologetic as he held up his left hand, exposing a simple steel band. "In-law."

_Damn._ Smiling apologetically herself, she focused on her screen. "It says he can leave now, yes." Checking the list of approved names, she asked, "Are you Kasey?" At his easy nod, she asked, "Can I see your ID really quick?"

"Not a problem." Pulling out his wallet, he asked, "Is the doc going to need to talk to me? The woman who called said Will was pretty out of it."

"You're going to need to meet with Dr. Lera, yes. Mr. Mehile is stable, but has been slipping in and out of consciousness since coming in, so he needs someone to look after his treatment for at least a few days. Um…" She gestured ruefully towards the very full waiting room. "I'll call Dr. Lera and let him know you're here. We'll get to you as soon as we can."

Kasey nodded agreeably, turning to look over the crowd of anxious people. "That's fine… from what I've heard so far, Will was pretty lucky." He sighed and shifted his weight fully back onto his feet. "At least, luckier than a lot of other people." Waving a hand at her as he moved away, he added, "Thanks for the sweet attitude, honey, I'm sure you're helping all sorts of folk with just that smile. I'll wait my turn."

Brenda blinked, then smiled genuinely at the appreciation. "Your wife is lucky!" she called after him. "God bless!"

His answering chuckle sounded tired. "God bless."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Austria – In Transit**

It takes nearly half an hour, but he's relieved it wasn't any longer when she sighs and leans into the man, going so far as to drop her head on his shoulder as she stares out the window into nothing. He responds with his predicable, precise care, resting one hand over hers where it's fallen on his lap, the other gently but firmly around her waist, exactly at the right height to be comfortable but innocent. He tilts the side of his head to the top of hers and hums out a soothing noise, eyes shut. They stay like that for nearly twenty minutes.

Lieutenant Lincoln Sobrie pretends to not think much of it. Technically speaking, it's normal behavior for them, and he knows for a fact that this morning was stressful on everyone. They had time before arriving at Relena's next engagement, and in the end of the day, the careful dance between the princess and her colonel was their business. If he were entirely honest, he _wouldn't_ have thought anything of it if two months ago, when they had had the exact same gestures and patterns. He had seen the two of them _sleep_ settled against each other like this on at least two occasions.

But he hadn't needed Mai to point out to him how very _controlled_ their commanding officer was becoming in Relena's presence; he knew the man well enough by this point to have noticed it himself. Carefree motions and habits were the same, he wasn't doing anything differently with the princess at all, down to the minutia… but… His movements never appeared to _actually _be careless, anymore.

He had a few theories. He wasn't about to broach them with _anyone_, however, because as far as he was concerned, Jake was omniscient of all words and actions within a hundred yard radius, and he didn't like the feeling of looking over his shoulder for an ambush he know he wasn't talented enough to notice before it was sprung. Mai could play daredevil with that one all she wanted; he enjoyed a sense of security when he laid down to sleep at night.

He glanced back towards them, and found that while the colonel's eyes were shut, Relena was watching him. He met her clear blue eyes with a concerned sort of smile and tilt of the head, asking if she was okay. She stared at him coolly for a moment before shifting her gaze down to Jake's hand over hers. Her focus stayed there for a long moment before she looked back to him, all without twitching any muscles in her face or body. She wasn't giving Jake any way to know that she was even conscious.

Sometimes, Lin wondered if the colonel realized just how well he had taught his charge. Technically, he ought to, but she seemed to know him as well as he knew her.

The implication in her steady, sober gaze made him nod ever so slightly in answer. _Yes, I see it._ It was good, on some level, to know that she hadn't missed Jake's increasing precision. It was upsetting, however, to realize that if she knew…

If she knew, then she was doing the exact same thing, maintaining the exact same comfort level artificially, without a sign, even though she recognized the loss.

And Lin _hadn't_ noticed her part in it.

He couldn't decide if his expectations and assumptions about the colonel had blinded him to that, or if she really superseded Miller's skill on that front – at least in this particular instance.

Her eyes shone darker as she looked down and away instead of out the window as she had been before. Pursing her lips, she squeezed her eyes shut before Jake shifted and opened his own. Seeming to realize her shift in mood, he twisted his head to press his lips to the top of her head. Lin made sure he was looking worriedly out the window when he felt dark blue eyes focus on him.

There was a whole _ball_ of subtle insinuation there he had no intention of touching. For now, he could be happy that he didn't have a damn thing to do with it. If that changed, he'd figure it out later.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Italy – In Transit**

"Here."

Marlé held out one hand expectantly without looking towards him, the other still busily tapping out a message on her phone. Irritation sparked in his chest, and he felt slighted in spite of the sheer inanity of the situation. He followed that she was upset with him, but he couldn't _do_ anything to fix it if he didn't know what the problem _was_. She was… He narrowed his eyes.

She was acting like _Dorothy_.

_Not_ a pleasant progression.

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_"An olive branch, then." _

_ Odin frowned and inspected the object with disbelieving curiosity. "Olive?" He brought it closer to his face, but the only scents he could pick up were of sugar and lemon. _

_ Lucrezia laughed, apparently delighted. "Forgive the metaphor, Odin. Consider it a peace offering." _

_ He tilted his head and considered it again. The concept struck him as a little simplistic, but if it worked the way Lucrezia was suggesting, it was practically a new perspective on negotiating altogether… and it made a disconcerting amount of sense on a visceral level. It might even start to explain why he had never been exactly… good… with negotiations. _

_ "Alright." He met her eyes and smiled. "Thank-you."_

_~oOo~~oOo~_

He dropped it very precisely into her hand, and felt a proud smirk tug at his lips as she automatically adjusted her fingers around it to firmly hold but not crush when she had been expecting to catch something far more dense. Her mind was only a moment behind her body, and she spun her head around to focus on her hand in surprise. She seemed just as confused as he had been when Lucrezia had done the same to him.

It was oddly gratifying.

"What is it?" she asked, staring at it in seeming confusion.

He gave her an amused look. That much should have been obvious – the air smelled of sweet lemon for a good three-foot radius. The tiny cake _had_ come with a label, however. "A Salivation Salutation."

The look she gave him was entirely incredulous… then exasperated as she dropped her phone in her lap and shot him a happy smile as she brought the treat to her mouth. Her eyes actually lit up as she chewed her first bite. "Oh wow." She took more time than she usually did, but she seemed extraordinarily happy to do so, and she focused back on him after she'd swallowed. "Okay… it deserves the dumb name."

"Does it?" he asked curiously. He'd readily agree it was good, probably one of the most pleasurable foods he had ever had, but he didn't have much of a frame of reference.

Marlé, knowing him as she did, slid into her normal way of conversation. "This is probably the best cupcake I've ever had, Odin." Taking a delicate nibble and making happy noises in the back of her throat, she asked, "Did you get cake when you were little?" A moment later, she froze and blinked over at him owlishly. "You already had one, right? We're not sharing?"

He almost laughed at her. Shaking his head, he waved a hand for her to go on as he settled back into his chair. "I think Odin preferred ice cream. That was probably more about convenience than anything, though; most places that sell food of any kind carry ice cream."

"You never really had an oven to bake stuff in either, huh?"

He frowned, "No, more than half of the places I remember had kitchens." His father had usually made food on the stove, or kept things in the fridge. "Odin just… I don't remember him ever using the oven." He probably just hadn't been inclined.

She frowned at him. "Not even pizza?"

He gave her a look. "You _buy_ pizza."

She copied his expression right back at him. "Or you _make_ it, in the oven."

Obviously, but it still seemed rather pointless when it was easier and cheap to just order it. "Why?"

"Because it tastes good." She pretended not to notice his stare as she took more tiny, delicate nibbles of her cupcake.

He watched her for another ten seconds before deciding to just let it drop and move on. "I had cake a couple times as a child," he admitted. Once had been while he happened to be at a park at the same time another kid had been having a birthday party, and the boy's mother had insisted he have a piece. Odin had bought him a cupcake at random some time after that, but neither instance had been like this. "It was always chocolate, though."

"Mm, chocolate's pretty universal for sweets," Marlé noticed absently. "What got you to buy this, then?"

"I didn't." Shrugging to himself, he reached out and broke a piece off the top of the cake and popped it in his mouth. "Lucrezia bought them."

She gave him a dirty look before focusing back on the treat in her hands. "That was nice of her," the girl noted in a flat voice.

Odin frowned, leaning back as he watched her. Marlé… _didn't_ employ a monotone. Ever. Which meant… well, it meant something frustrating. However, before he could decide if her example of upset at him when he closed emotions out of his expression meant he could turn the same tactic on her, she spoke again. "Did she say why?"

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_"It's not quite on the same level of effort as a pink pony, but I thought you might appreciate the thought." _

_ He smiled at that before considering the inconsistencies. "I didn't ask for it." _

_ Lucrezia set her face in one hand and laughed softly at him. "I wasn't exactly in want of a pony, but I still appreciated the sentiment. Odin…" She pursed her lips and sat up straighter. "I honestly haven't asked for anything beyond your expertise at all – you've delivered excessive quality whenever a single insinuation is made. I haven't properly asked… and therefore I haven't properly returned the sentiment." Reaching forward, she nudged the bakery box closer to him with one finger. "So when I saw something I thought you might like, I decided the gesture was overdue." Sitting back again, she settled her face back into one hand and smiled. "And I remembered you drinking lemonade back in Sanc, so I assumed the flavor was a decently safe bet."_

_~oOo~~oOo~_

"It wasn't out of her way, and she wanted to."

Marlé looked up at him, her gaze searching. "Have you thought about this, Odin? Really honestly, thoroughly, _thought_ about it yet?"

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_Her eyes, he realized at last, were what bothered him. They were wrong, and he knew it was because her natural color was unusual enough to attract attention, but despite knowing, be couldn't entirely suppress the discontent at the flat brown they currently appeared to be. It… wasn't __**her**__, which was entirely the point, but… _

_ She chuckled softly and his attention shifted to her hand as she brush a piece of hair away from her face. "You're staring, you know." _

_ "Sorry," he returned automatically, shifting his eyes instead down to his coffee. He was fixating on irrelevant details. _

_ "Mm… are you actually?" Her tone was entirely curious. _

_ "Somewhat." _

_ "Hm." She leaned forward on the table and dropped her face in her upturned hand, far enough that her face was literally only inches from his own and he reflexively met her gaze as she seemed to search his own eyes for something. Considering how long he'd been doing just the same without objection, he allowed it. Emotions swirled through his chest, but he set them aside while she examined him, wondering what it was she was looking for, while at the same time he fought his pulse down from the racing thrill it wanted to start. He focused instead on reading her expression for a reaction, and found himself fixated on her lips as they curved back into her easy smile. A breeze caught her loose hair, and he fought down a shudder as a stray lock brushed against his hand. _

_ Lucrezia's eyes were bright with amusement to match her smile as she breathed out another husky laugh and shook her head ever so slightly. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" _

_ He lost control of his pulse and his heart pounded as a faint hint of something floral filtered through his senses. His mouth was too dry. In the back of his mind, he recalled a Russian woman's higher-pitched laughter as the redhead settled more firmly in his lap and declared, 'Oh, and you don't even know it, that just makes it better.' _

_ But this wasn't the same as that had been. _

_ Guided entirely by his heart, he moved forward as well so their noses nearly touched. Staring into her eyes again pointedly, he muttered, "I have a few."_

_~oOo~~oOo~_

"A little," he admitted to Marlé.

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_She relaxed her weight further into her hand and smiled more generously. "Oh?" _

_ He licked his lips, head buzzing with sensations he had yet to organize. "I'm still working out the details." _

_ She laughed softly in the back of her throat as she leaned back into her chair. "Let me know when you manage to sort them, mm?"_

_~oOo~~oOo~_

Marlé sighed and curled up in her chair, cupcake on her knees. "Whatever, then."

"What?" he asked incredulously. She was upset again. She'd been happy and helpful all of three seconds ago.

She glowered at her knees, suddenly sullen. "Just whatever, Odin."

_...__**What**__?_

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Near Osnabrück, Germany – In Transit**

When the world faded back into view, all he could make out at first was blurry, red, and soft. He blinked, reached out an uncooperative hand to try and touch it, groaned at how much trying to move hurt… and realized it was his blanket. Actually, it was his pillow, and his bed.

He got a sudden sense of vertigo as the bed lurched and two bands of something felt tight around his waist and legs.

This was probably not his apartment.

"Will, you alive back there?"

William groaned again, trying to figure out what the hell hurt most. He recognized the voice, though, even if nothing else made sense. "What happened?"

"You got blown up," Duo noted dryly. "I hear that hurts like hell; what's your vote?"

Will just groaned again and tried to bury himself into the mattress. That wasn't worth an answer. "Where am I?" There was a weird…. _vibration_ that was oddly familiar, but the answer wasn't coming to mind either.

Duo didn't answer for a long moment, and his stomach twisted like he was on some sort of carnival ride before the boy began to tiredly explain. "We're on our way to Amsterdam. I grabbed everything personal or useful out of your place before I picked you up – you're going to be staying with us for a while."

An alarm went off in his head at that idea, and everything… _spun_. "My job-"

"Will, your job got blown up," Duo cut off, voice tight.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to stop thinking about the way he felt like he was on a hell of a merry-go-round.

He _really_ didn't want to throw up on his bed… wherever it was, it was still his bed…

Duo sighed loudly. "It's… it's a damn good thing it was your day off, buddy." He just sounded tired now, like he couldn't stay upset. "It was a close enough thing as it was. When the docs first called, they weren't sure you were going to make it at all." There was a click, and then, very suddenly, Duo was squatting next to him, taking his wrist in a very medical way. "I've got some meds to give you, but it needs to wait another half hour or so, until after we've crossed the border; it's been long enough that the guys I met on the way here are probably off shift." Another hand cupped his forehead. "You okay?"

"No," William groused, still trying to fight his stomach back down. "Where are we?"

"…On second thought, those meds might need to wait longer than thirty minutes."

He groaned again, trying to curl around his stomach… and groaned more as his back lit on fire.

"Shit…"

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because some people have a warped idea of who does what?"

…What did that have to do with anything? "Why do I have to be awake right now?" he clarified.

"Because if I get ID'd, you're going to need to be able to call in a few favors with a dead friend for me."

"I thought no one was dead."

The other man's laugh sounded a little too hysterical for comfort. "Oh God… It's _you_ that's not dead, Will, I didn't say anything about anybody else."

"Who's dead?"

"…You know, I'm not sure this was one of my better ideas."

"Who's _dead_?"

"Fuck, you're not even going to remember this conversation, calm down, nobody died."

He blinked his eyes open and squinted up at the man his daughter had married. It… was dark, but he could see okay. "Where _are_ we?"

Dark blue eyes met his for a long moment before he let out another sigh. "We're on our way to Amsterdam. And God help me, but there should be a better term for this than 'disorientation.'"

The fact that he was avoiding the question entirely was almost terrifying. Duo hated lying – he tried to sidestep it entirely _all the time_. "But where _are we_?" he demanded.

His eyes were panicked. "This can't be happening…"

"_Where __**is**__ this_?" He grabbed at the hand by his face, wishing he had the energy to shake the damn boy. Panic wasn't going to help _anything_!

Duo's mouth opened in a little oh of surprise, then suspicion. "Are you talking about the _van_?"

Will frowned, trying to look around without moving his head. "Van?"

Duo closed his eyes and covered them with the hand that Will wasn't holding onto. "We're in Father Espen's van. I borrowed it."

_Oh._ That… made sense. He started to let go of the sleeve in his hand, when a different sense of urgency hit him. "I'm going to puke."

"…Of course you are…"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany – Sarracenia – Late Afternoon**

"Thank-you," Relena murmured tiredly as she took the hand offered to help her out of the car. She felt like a wrung out dish towel, just completely spent…

"You're always welcome," Mitchell returned cheerfully.

Relena gasped as she really _saw_ who was in front of her. "David!" she cried, flinging her arms around his neck and dropping her weight onto him.

He obliged by pulling her off her feet and into a bear hug, laughing happily. "I missed you too, Princess."

"Is it just you?" she asked, pulling away and looking around the courtyard for more familiar faces.

"Cassidy went home," the colonel dismissed. "This is genuine time off, not a break between flights. Some true downtime was due in."

She sighed. "I certainly can't argue with that." Fighting a smile, she reached out and plucked at one sleeve of his overly colorful shirt. "Enjoying your time out of uniform?"

He grinned and tugged down on the ends of it to better show the printed picture. "I'm _rockin'_ this tiger."

Relena broke out giggling, pulling him into a more normal hug, feeling the tension drain out of her body. "I missed you, Dave."

Jake chuckled from behind her. "I didn't think you still had that shirt."

"And that," Mitchell whispered conspiratorially in her ear, "proves that he does not, in fact, know everything." Relena laughed more and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Your stage whisper needs work," Jake noted dryly.

"Your ears need more wax in them," David returned happily.

Jake chuckled again. "I'd say you need less glitter on your shirt, but I think Lena's handling that."

"What?" the princess demanded, quickly pulling back and looking down at herself.

"That's why it's a _vacation_ shirt," David argued easily, reaching out and pulling Relena back into his arms just as she registered that there _were_, in fact, golden glints on her blouse.

"David!" she squealed in protest.

He just laughed, holding onto her tighter.

Lin had apparently also made his way out of the car, and cackled as she tried to wiggle free without actually trying that hard, because all the ways she knew how were far less than polite and had decent chances of causing bodily harm, even when done half-heartedly. Feeling utterly childish – but really, he'd started it – she made a rather annoyed whining sound and fell limp against him, hoping he'd just give in if she did first.

"What's this, now?" Mai asked, sounding just as amused as the rest, and Relena closed her eyes, trying not to break out in giggles again at the sheer absurdity of her position.

"A menace by the name of Mitchell," Lin explained easily.

"Oh?"

"Terrifying," Lin assured her.

"He came bearing glitter, no less," Jake confirmed dryly.

"Ah," Mai returned as though this had, indeed, explained everything. "Are we waiting for reinforcements, then?"

Relena smiled into the damn stupid shirt, and mumbled, "My white knights are coming for me."

"Mm, could be tricky," he noted seriously.

"I don't know, Marakesh," Jake was debating. "It's a hostage situation, remember."

"Didn't you train her to give us an opening for that sort of thing, though?" Mai argued.

Relena sighed at the very _not_ subtle hints and shifted her weight to move after all, only to have David giggle naughtily and dance away from her before she could try something.

She grinned. He_ was_ Jake's best friend, after all.

Shaking her head, she started towards the house. "You're here for a few days, right?"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Lisbon, Portugal**

Mm, it was refreshingly good to be back in Europe.

Adam shifted the strap on his bag, considering which way he wanted to go next. Something about the abandoned shipyard appealed to him greatly, and for all that the weaponry in his sack was as comforting as usual, no less so because it was no longer a current necessary precaution, it wasn't the best idea to continue carrying _all_ of it across borders. Security was bound to go up with recent events, and he wasn't so uncertain of his footing at the moment that he needed an entire duffle-full for a security blanket. A sixth of what he had now would do fine… perhaps even an eighth, depending.

He hummed to himself as he decided left felt right, and went with it.

Everything had been thoroughly _busy_ while he was in America, to the point that he was somewhat disappointed he hadn't acted on the radioactive situation just a week earlier, and not missed it. He had a lot of ground to cover if he wanted to maintain the information network he'd been crafting over the past two years and keep pace with current events enough to stop another bombing.

He rather hoped he didn't know anyone in Berlin. A few memories had been fighting to surface when he'd seen the wreckage of that scene on the news, and while he had decided he wasn't entirely interested in dragging them fully up through his subconscious, that didn't make the whole thing not disquieting. Something about explosions made his skin crawl… and hopefully it was just that he had the burn scars if not the conscious memories that accompanied them.

_Mm…_ He tilted his head appreciatively at the sight of the warehouse in front of him and made his way through the lot towards it.

Thankfully, Catherine was still up in the colonies, and decently far away from the cluster that had gone dark. The circus manager had been caught in wartime crossfire enough times that he did his best to avoid it, and he always took care of his people. If Adam provided information that said danger was coming to an area he had planned on tour, he knew the other man well enough by now to realize he'd change the schedule. It was hardly a guarantee of safety, but it was as good as anything was going to get in the current climate, and he was alright with that. If anything was ever too sure in life, it wouldn't really be life anymore.

The door was very obviously bolted and chained securely shut, but there was a window that was conveniently easy to unlock around the far side. It was small, but big enough to suit his purposes. Once inside, he began exploring, taking note of useful structures… plenty of things that would work well enough… but couldn't help a smile as he found a _perfect_ opening upwards on the second floor that was such that it could only be seen from a few angles. Balancing his duffel on his palms, he lifted it up into the cavity and let it topple to one side of the impromptu entrance before coiling his muscles and leaping up after it. Shifting the bag further to the side, he moved to take his flashlight back off his belt before brushing his hand against something that made his frown.

After a moment's confusion, he hit the button to turn on the lantern-style flashlight sitting rather oddly in the middle of the floor.

_Hm._ This… was unexpected.

There was a rather decent assortment of bags, boxes, and trunks... some of which looked rather like ammo tins. Curious, he reached out and popped the latch on one, opening the lid to confirm that notion. Shrugging, he moved forward and yanked down the zipper on a soft suitcase and was greeted with the sight of several high-end machine rifles and at least eighteen full clips. He considered them for a moment before turning to consider the other various containers around the room, fairly certain that that case, in particular, had grenades in it… and that _that_ one was familiar. Reaching out, he undid the latches and almost instinctively grabbed the large combat knife out of the foam it rested in and settled into a fighting stance. The weight was comfortable, and he took a few practice swipes to assess its weight before deciding that it just felt _right_, better than anything else he'd picked up for close combat. There was an odd roughness at the handle near the base of the blade that intrigued him enough to bring it closer to the lamp… and after a long moment, he smiled. Etched carefully into the metal was one word.

_Nanashi._

Looking around the room again, then back to the bag he'd brought in with him, he smirked.

Evidently, he'd had this thought before.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany – Sarracenia – Evening**

"Am I going to continue doing any work with the Chinese?" Dorothy asked in a resigned tone.

Relena frowned, looking up from the magazine they had been pawing through. "So long as you don't mind," she appealed immediately. "I trust you, so I've been leaving it to you more, but if-"

"It's not the task," Dorothy interrupted, waving a hand in a dismissive gesture. "I find the change of scenery perfectly agreeable. Ooh!" She pointed to a picture. "That one."

Relena looked back down and made a considering noise. "Maybe. What _is_ it about, then?"

The other woman made a face. "Mu."

_Mm, I probably ought to have seen that coming._ She smiled a little. "She's too mellow for you?" Their personalities weren't exactly compatible, Relena would admit. Mu… tolerated eccentricity and did her job. She was quiet, and kept to herself in a lot of ways, though not in an offensive way. It wasn't exactly a surprise that she was clashing with Dorothy's outright flamboyance. The younger woman's immaturity probably didn't help the relationship either.

"She's a complete stick in the mud," Dorothy groused, dog-earing the page and flipping to the next. "And there's something else too, but I can't put my finger on it."

Relena sighed a little. Mu… was entirely functional, and calm enough, but it was wholly conceivable that the American woman was still in a stage of grief. Also… "Do you think she considers you partially responsible for _Libra_?"

"I only risked my life trying to stop Milliardo from firing on the planet by bodily flinging myself at him," she noted acidly.

"She's still American. It might not be entirely rational." Mu made a point not to lash out at people, but Dorothy had a way of crawling under a person's skin when she wanted to.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, flipping the page again. "Valid facts, but no. I considered that; it's something else."

A weight sunk deep into her stomach. Dorothy had good instinct, and however offbeat the woman could be, Relena had come to trust her completely on things like this. "How?"

Her friend pouted. "My reasons never make sense to anyone else."

_No, but they were usually spot on anyway._ "That's because you're a natural at this," she assured her quietly. However highly analytical Dorothy was, she did it all subconsciously. Or, at the very least, it wasn't a thought process she could trace out for someone else. She saw details everyone else dismissed and painted them into a larger picture with a frightening accuracy, all without fully understanding what the details themselves had originally been. She didn't know how she knew, generally… she just _knew_. It was why she could get to people as well as she did. She didn't seem to actively understand her own behavior enough to recognize how ridiculously petty it could be, but she knew the effect it would have, and she didn't cast impressions she didn't fully intend.

"She watches me. She watches everything, things that she shouldn't care about." The noblewoman looked up and they met eyes. "She forgets too much that she _should_ have known, if she pays that much attention. She's cozy when it gets her attention, and annoying if it gets her more or less. She's…" The woman's eyes narrowed. "Something is _wrong_ with her."

…It sounded catty and generally wretched and paranoid, but Dorothy wouldn't have said all this if that was all; she just would have happily done her best to make the other woman miserable. So, put through the filter, she found Lieutenant Ackroyd's behavior suspicious… and considering Dorothy's definition of 'suspicious' and her high tolerance to weird social quirks altogether, that was… very worrisome.

Relena looked back down to the magazine and flipped a page, considering the pictures absently, but with her mind focused on the problem before her. "If you're right," she noted after a moment, stilling her lips out of habit, "then what are the chances she's informing on us?"

Dorothy was silent for a long moment before deciding, "That depends on Jake."

Relena felt her stomach sink even deeper. "Jake didn't want to hire her," she admitted quietly.

Dorothy's lips pressed tight. "So he said."

Relena closed her eyes, considering the possibilities whirling before her. If Mu worked for someone else, the last person it would be was her brother; it would be a resistance group. If she was getting information out, it would have to slip through Jake's security measures. Though of course, with her access off the grounds, that wouldn't be as difficult as it might otherwise seem. It would depend on how often she reported… and how much of her seeming contentment was an act or real.

But if Jake did know about Treize's survival, then he had kept it to himself. And if he had kept it to himself, then he could either be protecting an old friend, or moving against others offensively. If he was working with Treize the way he had done over and over again in the past, then… The possibilities spiraled.

The way he looked at her now… They had both acknowledged it a handful of weeks ago, and yet not. His eyes sparked when he watched her and thought she couldn't see, and her heart sped up every time. He was so careful to stay on the same level of contact with her, like nothing had changed, but kept such a distance. She'd seen the request in his expression when it had first begun, and had matched it with her own control in response… Things had changed, but neither of them wanted to allow the alteration. She had decided that if he wanted to keep his distance, then she would do the same, because if he thought that… that that _lure_ was a bad idea, then frankly, it _was_. She didn't show that she noticed how he breathed more deeply than he needed to when she was in his personal space, and he didn't say anything if her own breath quickened. They would stay where they were, and just… wait for it to pass. She'd been attracted to him when they first met, after all, and it had faded out once before.

But then Engineer Kailì Lao had told her about Treize, and that cast a far darker light on all potential reasoning.

And yet, there was the fact that it really might _not_ be more than it seemed.

Sighing, she looked out the window… and blinked at the sight of the subject of her contemplation standing outside with David. "Hm. Thea?"

The other woman looked up, and paused at the sight herself. "They look cold."

Relena had noticed the lack of coats herself, and considering the fact Jake, at least, seemed to despise the cold and generally refused to go outside without a scarf, that was odd. His arms were crossed, to add to the image… and then the full posturing of both men caught up to her and her breath caught in her throat.

"They're _angry_," Dorothy murmured, fascinated.

Relena could only nod. Despite the defensive posture, there was something downright _aggressive_ about Jake's stance, and David was leaning forward as he gestured tightly… though he flinched back when the other colonel stepped forward. The next moment he was shaking his head the way he did when frustrated, not backing away, actually leaning more into the other man's space… and then Jake whirled and stormed away, taking a wide curve around his friend and heading back into the house. After another irritated toss of his head, Mitchell followed after him.

"Now what was that about?" Dorothy muttered, and Relena turned to see her staring off into the distance, lost in thought.

Relena felt her throat tighten. "This isn't the first time." She remembered Jake's voice snapping out a cold 'No' over and over again to Mitchell over the phone from the conversation she'd overhead a few weeks ago.

"Mitchell took the conversation outside so they wouldn't be overheard," Dorothy pointed out.

"Mailin's fluent," Relena agreed. "The jump to Japanese wouldn't have done its usual trick." _And the body language, of course, would be a dead giveaway._

"Was that a camera blind spot?"

Relena had no idea, but the notion didn't seem too far out of hand. At the same time, however, if David had been the one to lead, he wouldn't be as familiar with the camera and mic angles. Considering that for a moment, she came to a decision. "I'll talk to Lin."

There was a chance that whatever they were fighting about lately would shine more light on her current dilemma. Jake and David teased and tussled, they disagreed and argued, but always in a friendly way; their body language read like annoyed brothers at their worst. The exceptions to that had only been when Dave had been trying to stop Jake's assault on his father, the argument she had overheard on the phone… and now. This was suspicious and worrisome in and of itself… and if it turned out to have nothing to do with her current worries, then she still wanted to know what was causing such strife between her friends.

Dorothy looked at her sidelong, obviously assessing, but in the end she nodded and looked back to the spot their two friends had been in without comment. "Best do it tonight – Jake already agreed to take Addie and I out."

She nodded. She could have a word with him while her colonel was getting ready, and handle the affair while Jake was out of the house entirely. Adelia hadn't had a chance to get out and do something fun since before her son was born, and Jake had suggested she join he and Dorothy on their next trip to the clubs. The timing had worked out badly for David's surprise visit, so Relena had decided to leave the boys to have some time to themselves before it was time for them to go, seeing as she would be able to spend the entirely of the evening with Dave.

"Don't approach David, Lena. See if he tries to draw you in first."

"I planned on it," Relena assured her firmly. It went without saying that Dorothy would keep a close eye on Jake too, tonight, and if nothing else, see how much this was bothering him. Saying it aloud would annoy her finicky friend; she'd take it as an implication that she was stupid.

Dorothy nodded firmly in turn.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany – Night**

The doorman gave him a highly amused look when tonight he showed up with a woman on each arm instead of just one, and Jake winked at him as they passed. Addie and Dorothy were giggling uproariously about God only knew what.

He was glad that the two women had hit it off, for all that he hadn't expected it. Admittedly, he hadn't known Addie for several years now, and didn't have as good of a grasp on her personality as he had before, but she had always been almost painfully practical, and he wouldn't have thought more unexpected responsibility would alter that. At the same time, however, Dorothy seemed to have gone out of her way to befriend his friend, and it was good for her to have something carefree to focus on too. Frivolity had a way of taking the edge off of a hard life.

It helped that Addie was also practically-minded enough to realize that he and Dorothy trying to dote on her had little to do with charity and everything with seeing someone entirely content… And, well, with Thea, she hadn't taken long to realize it might have just been something to do. Adelia didn't offend easily, and took things simply as they were… which was always something he had liked about her. She didn't analyze by her own standards – she had a talent for instinctively knowing the standard of who she was dealing with, and using that exclusively. It was one of the reasons he had chosen to work with her in the first place.

The music was essentially deafening, and Dorothy pulled Addie away from him towards the crowded dance floor. For the moment, he decided to find somewhere to sit back and keep an eye on them. He would end up dancing eventually, but he liked a certain amount of time to acclimate to the noise and crowd. Once he'd been there a while, it stopped bothering him so much, but at the moment, his senses were screaming danger. It would wear down into comfortable anonymity soon enough, and until it did, he could scope out details about possible dangers more closely.

This really wasn't his kind of thing, but it wasn't entirely un-enjoyable either. There was something distinctly comforting about the ambiguity of a happy crowd like this. He knew how to blend in, and he was happy to keep his friends safe; it always left him with a feeling of purpose… and he wasn't completely immune to the charm of the place. After all, there would probably be something else entirely to worry about if those flashes of female skin _didn't_ snatch at his attention.

It was an excellent place to people watch, at any rate. Outlandish behavior was the norm, not even getting into the clothing… and his own company was no exception. Dorothy had convinced Addie to let her spray _pink_ temporary dye, of all things, in her hair, so she had streaks similar to Dorothy's bright green, and while the corset and pants Addie was wearing covered more than Dorothy's slinky green dress, neither ensemble left very much to the imagination.

Shaking his head and laughing as Addie matched Dorothy's outlandish dancing move for move, he tried to sink his nerves deeper into the back of his brain and speed the process up. They could accept the attentions of anyone they wanted, but Dorothy only let it go so far, and Addie had made it clear that she didn't want to be touched by any stranger with intentions. With the kind of attention they were starting to attract, he needed to go be an intimidating male presence to maintain that boundary soon.

"…_Jake_?! Oh my God, it _is_ you!"

…That didn't bode well. Narrowing his eyes, he turned to locate who the hell had recognized him, and fought the urge to swear. She wasn't immediately recognizable in ridiculously short shorts and a billowing top that moved loosely enough to suggest she wore nothing beneath it and someone might catch an interesting glimpse, her auburn hair twisted up and spiked with something sparkly that matched the glitter painted around her eyes, but she was hardly disguised. Apparently, Dorothy wasn't the only noblewoman who preferred this sort of entertainment.

He didn't bother to hide his irritation at finding her here; his evening was about to go completely to hell. "Olivia," he greeted evenly. "I wouldn't have expected to find you here."

She laughed and reached up to cover her mouth with one hand as she did so, her shirt twisting and the light catching on yet more shimmer in some pattern on the shirt as the bangles she wore on one arm jangled. He fought the urge to twitch as his ears began to ring. "And I you!" she returned easily. "You look _good_!"

As if he would wear something that wasn't sensually flattering to a place like this. "And you're all shiny," he noted dryly. He glanced back towards the girls; however impossibly long the Dontelaine woman made her legs look, he was here for a _reason_. She didn't need to get any more annoying ideas than she already had anyway.

Her eyes widened. "Is…?" She focused on the dance floor herself.

"No." The last thing he needed was for someone to say Relena's name here, in relation to him. It wasn't a common enough name to just brush off.

Her returning look was far more interested, heading in the direction of seductive. "Then _you_-"

"No."

She frowned, looking back out to the floor. "But then… Oh." Still frowning, she looked back to him, then Dorothy, seemingly incredulous. "You're not-"

"I'm not anything," he negated immediately, not really caring for _any_ ideas that might have occurred to her.

"Well, that's a start," she decided cheerfully.

"No, it's really not," he noted. "It makes for a pretty decent end, actually." Pushing away from the wall, he made his way down to the girls. He might as well make what he could of this before Dorothy saw the other woman and started raining down brimstone. Today had already shown a pattern for slipping from bad to worse; instead of proving himself wrong again by thinking it couldn't go any more downhill, he was just going to take what he could while it lasted.

It actually managed to last almost two hours, which had to count for some kind of success, at least. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he heard a deadly hiss of "That _bitch_" that officially called the peacetime. Not sure at the moment where the redhead was, he took the precaution of looping his arm around his friend's waist, and was gratified when a moment later she tried to launch into the crowd and he caught her before she could do something that he knew _she_ wouldn't regret, but that everyone else who ever heard about it would.

"Calm down," he muttered in her ear as she tried to pull away.

"She can't _be_ here!" she snarled.

He forcibly pulled her arms to her body and added them to his grip around her body. Knowing it was futile, but trying all the same, he pointed out, "It's public property, Thea. The people who come through here are one of the reasons you _like_ it."

She stopped fighting him, but was still furious enough that she visibly shook. "I don't _want_ her here," she hissed.

…That wasn't anger in her voice anymore. Extremely glad that he'd had the foresight to have Vaughn come in after running into Olivia, he looked up to where the other man was sitting in a lounge with Addie and gestured before beginning to half lead, half carry Dorothy out of the crowd. "I know," he reassured her quietly.

"This ruins everything!" she wailed, practically dropping her weight on him.

A little melodramatic, but he followed the point. "I know," he repeated softly, taking on more of her weight and focusing on getting them to the back halls near the bathroom. She needed a little bit of privacy. When a bouncer frowned and moved to tell him he couldn't pass, he pulled a few hundreds out of one pocket and handed them to him without stopping; the man didn't try to press it. Inwardly, Jake felt like rolling his eyes. That was the entire point of bribes, of course, but the pure ease of it always irritated him.

There didn't appear to be anyone nearby when she twisted to bury her face against his shoulder and start to sob. Rubbing small circles over her back, he tapped at the back of her calf with one toe to get her take off the heels she was wearing. She was taller than him barefoot; she was going to get a crick in her neck at their current height differences. She shakily stepped out of them without looking up, and he focused on just being there for her. The blonde in his arms had been getting more and more depressed over the past few weeks, and he hadn't been able to sort out what to do about it until she brought up the problem. Guessing would _not_ help with the volatile woman if he didn't get it right, and her mind just worked too differently to have any decent chance of success at the deeper issues. "Shh… It'll be alright." It couldn't be all that hard to sort out.

"She…" Her voice hitched and she tried again. "She's destroying my _life_!"

"She's nowhere _near_ good enough to pull that off," he coaxed, brushing a hand over her hair.

"She's going to take Lena away from me!"

He snorted. _Really?_ "Never."

"She's trying to sway her! And Lena _likes_ her!"

"Lena is too steadfast for that, and the woman makes a good ally."

"_I'm_ a better ally!" she snapped, sobbing harder.

"Exactly," he soothed. It helped – or didn't, in this case – that the girl was also amiable, had a similar personality to the princess, and could probably teach her a few things as well as offer up the power she had under her, but that didn't really need to be said right now. It wasn't as though Dorothy's position would change with the princess, whoever else she managed to get under her influence – Relena was kind and fair and perceptive enough to not burn one bridge for another. She was compassionate enough to make sure everyone felt their value, especially considering how easily she had been tossed aside by those she respected in the past. "Besides, you're not just better, you're _more_ than an ally. You're her friend, and Lena _loves_ you." He tilted his head up and kissed her cheek before leaning back so she could meet his eyes if she wanted to. "No one's going to forget about you, so there's no need to worry that your best friend is going to up and replace you. That's not how she works, and you know it."

Instead of taking in the reassurance as he'd hoped, however, she just held onto him tighter and kept on sobbing. Sighing, he gave up for the time being and just held onto her right back. He'd long since gotten used to Dorothy's physical presence… When she felt bad, she craved touch the same as a child. "Hey, hey, it's going to be okay… you'll be fine…" he soothed. Sighing a little, he suggested, "The bitch isn't worth crying over." He'd make a joke about all the glittery body paint if he wasn't worried that she secretly admired the sparkles.

The problem with Olivia was equal parts jealousy and fear of failure. It was preposterous, but… well, it probably had something to do with the redhead being both not actively snooty, the same way Relena was, and a lot closer to social norms than Dorothy was. The match-up was pretty fantastic, in terms of pure compatibility, and there was an implied threat there… but it could hardly erase the long history between Dorothy and Relena. Experience was a true bond forged that didn't break over any less than tragedy, and Relena had proven over and over again that even that didn't stop her from hanging on to everything she had with a death grip.

He sighed, closing his eyes and considering his own advice. Honestly, Relena's faithful nature…

Sometimes, these days, he was just so damned _tired_.

Dropping his forehead down to Dorothy's shoulder like she had hers to his, he breathed in the thick but delicate scent of her perfume, and murmured, "Don't cry, Thea…"

"I'm damned!" she cried instead, shoulder shaking enough that it was hard to lean back on her. "No matter what happens now, I'm damned! I can't…" Her voice rose in pitch with another sob.

"That's not true," he refuted quietly. After a long moment, he softly added, "I don't know what has been bothering you so much recently, but you're _not_ damned to anything, Dorothy."

"I _am_!"

"If you're damned to anything, I'll save you back out of it," he promised.

"You _can't_…"

"You don't believe that," he ensured smoothly, rubbing at her back again. "I would fix it for you." Sometimes, with Dorothy, you just had to go back to the same absolutes you'd use for a child. It wasn't for any lack of intelligence that that might imply, though. Instead… it was that she recognized the safety of ultimatums. If there were no conditions in place, no complications for her to count, no loopholes that could be devised, it became a comfort. It was something about the way her head worked; sometimes, she just needed her intellect removed from the equation in order to cope with the real world.

She didn't answer for a long moment, and she stilled enough that he began to hope that it had worked. Finally, however, she whispered, "You're a liar."

He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall, a lance of cold piercing through his chest, trying to come up with an argument for that that _wasn't_ a lie. She trembled again, but didn't resume crying, and didn't pull away… and after a long moment, he knew what to say. "I could never stand by and just let you be hurt, Dorothy." She was his friend… she was practically Relena's sister. She drove him up the wall sometimes, but he didn't back down once he made a friend. He didn't desert anyone he truly attached himself to…

It had _hurt_ to find out how much bad had come down on Adelia and Daniella. He had stayed up that night hunting down all the details he could on everyone he had come to love before and after them, to try to confirm that as many of them were okay as he possibly could… He'd already reached out to a few that had fallen on hard times. But it tore at him, how many he couldn't find at all. There had been a reason he had avoided the idea.

Leia.

Mariemaia.

He needed to go _see_ Des, and quit avoiding him…

_…Lucrezia._

He still couldn't decide if she had been real, in Amsterdam, or if he had just imagined her. He wanted so badly for it to be true, that she had been there… but he wanted it so damned bad… It was too good to have been real, to finally have proof. The idea that she might not be… he _couldn't_ let himself think about it.

"…I'm sorry," Dorothy whispered.

"…Don't be," he murmured after deciding he really meant it. He _was_ a liar, and they both knew it, but some things counted no matter what, and she'd conceded that. Lies were to get out of corners that the truth painted you into… and it was a fell swoop, if the curtains you built all came crashing down. If you were willing to lie about anything to anyone, you had no limits, but… A world without _anyone_ to be your exception was worthless. He crushed her to his chest for a long moment, debating… and decided, frankly, _Why the hell not?_

"Can I ask you something?" he whispered reluctantly. "Just between us?"

He loved that she stopped to consider what that _meant_ and debated before just agreeing like so many others would. "Yes."

He licked his lips, closing his eyes again and trying to choose exactly what words, before staring up at the ceiling, not the friend in his arms. If you weren't willing to whitewash your way back out of a corner, you had to start making decisions that defied _something_… and if he was entirely honest, he had been doing the equivalent of splashing the white primer everywhere haphazardly already. He was running out of pride to sacrifice, and he knew it. "How…" He'd done it before, but never so big as this, never so dire… and there were a few ways through it… David wouldn't stop harping… But for maybe the fifth time in his life, he was terrified of what might come next. He… he didn't want to go back. He couldn't _stand_ to lose it again… and he was running out of time. There was a small chance that Dorothy could help, for all that he couldn't possibly let her…

He smiled a little ruefully, closing his eyes again, the irony ringing through him. He couldn't handle the idea of maybe letting Dorothy just "fix it". Maybe because he didn't believe it would work… and maybe because there was no way he could relinquish the little control he had, even as it slipped through his fingers like sand. His own principles that he had crafted and stood by through everything were going to tear him to pieces before he was done.

"How?" Dorothy asked quietly.

Opening his eyes to stare back up at the ceiling, he faintly heard himself ask, "How can you betray one friend for another?"

"…Jake?" Her voice shook.

He closed his eyes again before he could start to cry too. "I just… I don't understand. How… could anyone bear it?" Beloved was without calculable value, but impossibly fragile. It could be gone in the blink of an eye, and you wouldn't even know until hours or weeks, months later… And there was no way to come back afterwards. "I can't believe it's possible," he whispered after a moment, finally looking back at her, feeling the tears leak out of his eyes. More than aware that he was repeating her from before, but knowing he couldn't come up with any better, he shook his head a little and shrugged. "I just _can't_."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 4****th**** 198 – Friday – Skopje, Macedonia**

"Huh."

"Mm?" Odin shut the door, pocketing the card key they had picked up at the front desk.

She tossed him an irritated look as she crumbled the plastic backing in one hand, shifting her pack's weight and moving over to the table to set it down. "This is a lot nicer than we usually do," she explained.

He shrugged, moving further into the suite as well. "He's making a point." Idly, considering the large kitchen, leather couch, and obviously separate bedrooms, he wondered if they would be staying more than one night.

His answer seemed to amuse her, and she set her duffel down to dig through it. "Is it a 'because I can' sort of point?"

Odin frowned, resisting the urge to just walk away and stop talking to her. She'd been in this mood all day.

It didn't exactly do much for _his_ mood.

Having pulled the PlayPak out, she turned to face him fully and sighed, looking tired. "Okay… what?"

He carefully unclenched his jaw and focused on relaxing the muscles in his face for a few moments before answering. "The last time I was in this city, we slept in an abandoned tool shed." It had been cold enough that he'd actually gotten frostbite, and Quatre had gotten a cough bad enough that it turned into pneumonia.

…It had been the last time, while that Regime tracker was still set on him, that he had been desperate enough to try hacking them funds. He had gotten them what they needed before getting caught out, but it hadn't exactly helped his friend recover when he had had to pick him up and literally run to avoid capture. They had managed to stow away on a train further south, where it was warmer, but in the end they had had to spend the majority of the money just putting themselves back together. This town… had probably been one of their lowest points, after _Libra_ fell. The aftermath of what had happened here had brought him closer to eating a bullet than any of the other times he had considered pulling the trigger.

Well, any of the times he had considered it after Antarctica, at least.

Setting his own bag down, he decided to see what the bathroom looked like.

"So…" Marlé trailed after him, sounding unsure of herself now. "It's for the contrast?"

He looked back at her, considering her expression, and nodded. Coming here, meeting like this, had been entirely Quatre's decision. The symbolism of it had appealed to his friend, and that could only mean one thing: he was confident. He wasn't frightened anymore. He didn't think he needed to hide. "It means he's done with running. He's ready to make his move." Opening the door and flicking on the light, he found himself staring.

…The bathtub was somewhat reminiscent of the hot tub in Sudan.

Quickly, he considered. The messages he and Quatre had exchanged had set the meeting time for a few hours from now, and originally he hadn't intended to arrive this early; Marlé had been tired enough to start falling asleep leaning against his side, however. Looking back to her, he focused on the PlayPak in her hand. "What are you doing?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to go. "Leaving you alone with the building's hot water supply."

He frowned, though a smile tugged at one side of his mouth at the same time. "But what are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Stuff," she returned cheerfully, waving at him with the hand holding the Pak without looking back. "Exploring the room, gaming… maybe napping." Grinning over one shoulder, she noted, "Don't worry, if I can manage myself in Amsterdam, I don't think I'll get so lost you can't find me, no matter how big this room is."

He grinned back before ducking into the bathroom. At least she was acting herself again.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

Cory waited for the girl to go back out into the main room and heard the water start to run before opening the wardrobe door and climbing out, checking the time on the bedside clock. Quatre hadn't said how long he was going to be out… but seeing as he'd only just left, and he had thought Heero would be late if anything, it probably wasn't going to be for a while. If he stayed hidden somewhere in the suite, it was a good chance he'd be found before Quatre came back… and this was Quatre's friend, anyway.

He hadn't said anything about a girl, though.

Shrugging – it wasn't as though there was any point in tiptoeing if he wasn't going to hide – he ambled out of the bedroom towards the kitchen and settled down on one of barstools set up against the breakfast bar, sprawling his arms out so it would be clear he was relaxed and unarmed, resting his chin on the tile of the counter and watching her put stuff in the fridge. He was wondering what she'd do when she saw him… but he didn't expect her to just glance over her shoulder, purse her lips, and turn back to bump the fridge further open while she reached down to dig deeper in her bag.

He blinked, trying to… decide how to take that.

She glanced back at him, as if to see if he was going to do anything interesting, and he sat up straighter almost in spite of himself. "Hi."

Her smile was kind of a smirk. "Hello." After a moment, she shrugged her right shoulder towards the inside of the fridge. "Are you hungry?"

He was _always_ hungry. _But…_ "Quatre said he was bringing food back."

"Mm, that sounds good," she decided, standing up and shutting the door. Picking up the bag, she set it on the counter and started pulling more stuff out of it. "Vinegar or original?"

_What?_ "Vinegar?"

"Cool." She turned away from the counter, tugging at the sides of a plastic bag with both hands; he jumped at the loud 'pop' sound it made, then blinked as the tangy smell of vinegar flooded the room, making his mouth water. She dug a hand into it and pulled out a chip as she walked up to him, holding out the bag. "My mom got me hooked on these. You should try one." When he didn't make a move, she just shrugged again and dropped it between his hands before moving for the couch. "I have a PlayPak. Do you want to play something? I can rig up a second controller."

He perked up at that, twisting to watch her sit down before staring back at the chips… "Okay!" Grabbing the bag, he jumped to his feet and followed her. "I haven't played anything in years."

"Mm." She frowned. "Is it okay that they're in English?"

He frowned back at her, wondering why _not_… and realized what she's _said_.

_"È va bene quello il giochi sei in Inglese?"_

He hadn't even noticed.

Giggling, he dropped onto the couch next to her, feeling giddy. "English is good," he told her in the more common language. "I'm good at English."

She snickered, grabbing the cables she had left on the coffee table earlier and standing back up to mess with the TV. "If you say so."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

Quatre jerked back as he unlocked the door and was practically hit in the face with a wall of noise.

"Ah, no! Left! Left, the pink one!"

The first thing he focused on, in spite of the sound barrage, was the pair was duffel bags leaning against the table that definitely hadn't been there earlier. Stepping in and shutting the door behind him with one toe, he slipped into the kitchen to set down the carryout and consider the extra teenager sitting in his living room. Blonde hair hung loose past the shoulders, slender build, definitely female… he couldn't guess her age without seeing her face. She was comfortable, amused, and very focused on the bright colors lancing across the screen in abstract designs. Cory…

He didn't need to be an empath to see the kid was having the time of his life.

Leaning forward, he rested his arms on the counter by the sink and tried to work out the mechanics of the game, just basking in the happy tumult of excitement washing around him. If he moved any closer to them they would notice him and stop what they were doing, and this was nice, even if his eardrums protested. When he focused, he could feel another mind off to his left, though it was muted almost as much as Cory could be when he was quietly content…

He wondered if that might be why, before _Libra_, he had always found something about Heero genuinely calming. It had been Heero that had guided him back from the shores of insanity and suicide after everything with Zero. Heero, utterly unflappable in the face of failure and devastation and subjugation, who reminded him it was possible to come back from absolute despair…

Seeing Heero come apart at the seams bit by bit after the war had broken him far more that _Libra's_ crash had.

"Ooh, bonus level," the girl crowed, then made a face, passing her controller – was that a cell phone? – over to Cory. "I don't like this song; you try." Then, as the boy fumbled with the machine so as to not miss the start of the level, she bounced up off the couch and met Quatre's eyes, heading right for him.

No fear, no confusion, no hostility… but an unbelievable level of pure self-assurance and strong but relaxed curiosity. Her eyes were one of the palest shades of blue he'd ever seen on a person, her gaze was assessing… Seeing her face on, he'd probably gauge her at fourteen years.

She smiled and brushed past him to open the fridge and dig out three different flavors of soda in varying containers, which she then held out to him in a silent question. Amused, he took the lemon-lime and offered her a smile of his own, lifting the drink in a cheers. She winked at him and ducked back behind the fridge door to put the cola back; she kept the orange cream.

Quatre felt his focus fall back to the pair of duffels by the table as he unscrewed the cap, and thought he had an idea as to why Dr. Srona had been amused by Cory's presence. Additionally, the girl reminded him of Duo. Taking a sip, he grimaced, surprised, then annoyed that he was surprised. He'd forgotten how _sweet_ this stuff was.

The girl sighed at him, though in a patient way. "You didn't have to take it if you don't like it, you know."

He debated telling her that it was polite, but that wasn't why he had done it. "I honestly didn't think about it," he told her, taking another small sip, reacquainting himself with the flavor and remembering why he liked it, for all that it had been nearly two years. "I didn't remember how different it was from what I've had more recently." Taking more of a real swallow, letting the sweet fluid spark across his tongue, he sighed a little as he found himself happily in the middle of a simple pleasure had hadn't had access to for so long. "I do like it." She still hadn't opened hers, however, and he gestured at it. "Why aren't you drinking yours?"

She gave him an amused look. "It's not for me." Waving towards the suite's entrance, she noted, "You tripped the sensor I planted on the door. I made it clear I was still on the couch, so he knew you were here as soon as you walked in."

Alarm struck up in his brain at the announcement, and he felt his eyes widen in realization that her confidence might not be ill placed; if her comment was anything to go by, it was centered around Heero.

Shrugging carelessly, she added, "He's got to be finished getting dressed by now. So…" She grinned as a figure moved up the hall towards the main. "Hey."

He was taller than Quatre remembered, but then, he hadn't seen him stand up straight since they were on _Peacemillion_ together, with how his leg had been. Dressed in dark jeans of what he could tell were a currently popular style and a black long-sleeved shirt with a nondescript, faint blue patterning… he would effectively blend into any typical crowd of their age group. His face had matured and he'd definitely grown into his body better, but he was still very recognizably Heero Yuy, even if he was willingly decently dressed for once. He had a hand towel draped around his shoulders, and his hair was soaked, his skin flushed. He'd obviously just come out of the bathroom, especially with the girl's commentary about getting dressed.

Then Heero smiled ruefully and shook his head, reaching up to pull the towel back off his shoulders and rub at his head with it. "You've changed," he announced, and Quatre was all at once caught by how much more casual his movements were, compared to the old brusquely efficient motion he was used to seeing on his comrade.

Before he could say anything to that, however, the girl chipped in for him, bouncing up to her friend. "Everyone does, don't they? Here." She held out the soda to him.

"Thanks." He popped it open, glancing in Quatre's direction briefly before sweeping his gaze over the room stopping on Cory. "Who's that?"

"Haven't gotten a name yet," the girl returned cheerfully.

"Why not?"

"I hypnotized him with my mad gaming skillz," she announced in a proud tone, before rolling her eyes. "He didn't offer or ask mine, so I figured I'd let it stand." She shrugged. "He's pretty cool. Seems he's attached to Quatre."

"Did you know that before you decided he was cool?" Heero asked in a wry tone.

"Yeah," she drawled in an annoyed way. "I had a gun in my hand until he mentioned Quatre was supposed to be bringing food back. And even after that, I always have my stunner on me." She rolled her eyes. "Just because I think someone's okay doesn't mean I'm going to be an idiot, Odin."

He gave her a very level, bland look that Quatre was all too familiar with, and she raised her brows, hands on her hips, stance very defiant… but there was a pent up excitement, a sort of anticipation radiating through her despite her smug appearance. He was trying to get a decent read on Heero and piece it together when the man moved forward in a lightning fast strike, only to have the girl move just as fast into a block and counterstrike – which was blocked just as efficiently – before giggling delightedly and _bolting_ back to the couch. The fact that she just vaulted over the surrounding furniture in her path without a moment's hesitation or appearance of effort implied an ungodly amount of things… including the fact that perhaps he should judge the girl by what he knew _he_ had been capable of at fourteen. _Or more accurately,_ he thought, focusing back on his old friend. _on what __**Heero**__ could do at that age._ He had never possessed the insanely fast reflexes as the other pilots, probably due to the fact that his younger life had never demanded it; in the end, most of his ingrained physical responses to violence had been learned after he had met the Maguanacs in 193. After what fighting in the war had taught him, and after surviving in the Sahara, he was now firmly in the same class as the rest of them and imagined he could probably hold even with Duo's speed, but he had no particular urge to _try_ against the other three. Heero had always been the fastest of them in any case; New Edwards had proven that beyond a doubt.

Shaking his head, Heero relaxed his stance and turned back to face him, a broad smile stretching across his face as he tousled at his hair with the towel some more. "She's getting good." His tone… That was the same tone his sisters used when they were unabashedly proud of him.

Quatre grinned, relishing in how different his friend had become. Still so calm and steady, like an anchor, but no longer so _remote_. "Talented," Quatre agreed, smiling and giving a tilt of the head to show everything was okay when Cory looked back over in their direction. "How long have you been teaching her?"

"Mm." He shrugged on shoulder as he moved around him towards the kitchen. "A year."

Quatre reconsidered the girl's physical prowess again and had to fight to shake his head. "Did she have any training before she met you?"

"No."

"That's amazing," Quatre muttered, looking back to the two teenagers on the couch. He'd taught Cory a lot, but… well, most of it was about stealth and hitting hard, not speed and maneuverability. The first two had had a greater chance of keeping him alive, and as far as he'd understood, it took a lot longer than a year of constant training to build up the latter two skills enough that they could have saved him in the desert.

Heero snorted as he deftly untied the knot on the bag of take-out. "You should see what she can do to a BIOS if you give her ten minutes. It took her a few weeks of playing with circuit boards to figure out she needed to just write her own operating system, but at this point she can work out all the kinks for multi-way communications, alarm triggers, and can tap most kinds of locator networks on cue." He started pulling out boxes of food and examining them.

That… _A year_. Looking back towards the living room, he found himself asking, "Does she sleep?" The kid had to be brilliant, no doubt, but still, to take in all that…

"A lot," Heero noted dryly. "I'm not entirely sure where all the food goes either." Pulling another container out of the bag and popping it open, he added, "Her mother says it's normal." He reached back into the bag and opened the next container without taking it out, and blinked. "I'm eating this."

"That was actually the idea," Quatre noted wryly.

The other pilot plucked the box and a fork out with on hand, and turned to move back towards the inner suite. "I meant it possessively," he returned simply, picking his soda back up off the counter.

Quatre just laughed, feeling rather proud of the… very deeply _cheerful_ emotions he was picking up from the other man. "That really _was_ the idea," he insisted, grabbing a fork and carton out of the bunch at random and following. He'd gotten used to the noise level, and they had turned it down a little, but the idea of escaping it entirely had appeal. This was a throwback to when he had first started attempting to befriend the others during the war, trying to work out their habits, only it was so much _easier_ when he could pick up mood this easily… And he didn't need a damn chisel to break through Heero's exterior, after they'd been through together.

He blinked as something else occurred to him, and, amazed that he forgotten, watched how smoothly his friend moved. "You know," he muttered half-jokingly. "I really thought they were going to have to cut your leg _off_ at one point."

"Not realistically," Heero answered readily, which was something of a wonder in and of itself.

Quatre laughed again, shaking his head. "No… I suppose not." Still, he'd been stunned when Dr. Srona told him he'd made a full recovery. Hesitating a moment, he admitted, "I… didn't mean to leave, when I did." He'd considered the idea a few times, but really, most of the plans had _included_ the other man.

"You would have said good-bye, if you had," Heero agreed as he sat in a recliner. Setting his can down on the side table, he looked out the window and shook his head. "This place…"

He sighed, turning to look out at the view of the city himself. "Yeah. Everywhere we went, Heero… almost everywhere, practically, there was a place like this." The Winners were nothing if not far spread, and both convenience and privacy at any potential location – for either business or pleasure – was a must. If you dropped the right names and had the right proofs, you could live anonymously in the lap of luxury… or at least, that was how it had been designed to work.

"Your face was too well known," Heero concluded after a moment.

"It wouldn't have mattered," Quatre agreed. He hadn't been able to walk down the damn _street_ without someone reporting a sighting of him, and he hadn't had access to any of the pseudonyms he would have needed… and he hadn't been convinced that the whole network wasn't actually compromised at that point in time, either. It hadn't been very clear just which of his sisters Marquise had gotten a hold of, and what information they might deem harmless to offer up willingly, let alone what he had uncovered on his own. This wasn't an exclusive arrangement either… there would hardly be a point, if it had been, because then everyone involved would be implicated. In the end, it had boiled down to the fact that his anonymity had been irreparably destroyed, and that he could find no way to secure access and get away with it for an hour, let alone a night they could actually sleep through.

And of course, if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Zechs would have had the means to find more of his family. The network would have been exposed and therefore unusable in the future for any of them, for absolutely no gain. He had given up on the idea by New Year's, before his wounds had properly scabbed and he had been trying to figure out how Heero could continue losing so much blood and still be alive. It frankly had never been worth mentioning.

He stared into the glare of the glass, trying to make out the details of his silhouette. How much of his change in appearance had been things that would have happened anyway? How much of it was from things he'd gone out of his way to change? How much was from the desert itself, and the toll it had taken on him… on them all? He was never going to be able to pick apart the pieces and decipher which was which… and however upsetting that was, logically he knew full well that that was easily the definition of the fabric that made up life itself. There were reasons he had been so disenchanted with his existence by the time he had met Rashid and the others, after all.

Strategy could only take you so far on the battlefield. As Heero had shown him time and again, sometimes it just took the pure nerve to put one foot in front of the other that got you through to the end of the game. At a certain point, you just had to run with it… And if you planned _with_ that resolve, then victory was sure.

"I'm heading back to space soon," he muttered as he dropped fluidly into the wing chair across from Heero. "I'll have more connections to work with there. I need to wrap up a few loose ends down here first, though, and learn everything that's happened. I've…" He stared down at one deeply calloused hand, then back out at the city. "…been out of the world a while." He focused back on Heero, who was watching him intently. "I need to know everything you know, before I can make a move."

Heero nodded, looking down and away, obviously thinking. He took a long minute to consider his words… and began to idly stir his food together, not seeming to actually see it. Finally, however…

"Relena's been busy."

Quatre nodded, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, trying to filter through the methodical maelstrom he was picking up from the other man. "I'd noticed that."

"Her financial backing, the R.L. Tomorrow Today Fund, worries me. They built _Peacemillion_… and I think they might have known about Operation M before even I did."

_oOo_

* * *

**_oOo_**

**_End Circling Back_**

**_oOo_**

* * *

** I tried to get a lot of points covered and answer a few questions, but I have so little time at this point that it's frankly a relief to sleep. I won't bore you with the details, but I'm writing as much as fast as I can without my life falling to pieces around me completely. Feedback would be utterly fantastic… This chapter has really been in the works since before I posted the previous. It's been so long even I started thinking the first handful of scenes belonged to something I'd already put out there for you guys. Considering the time lapses on updates, I figure I'll also point out that the majority of the information that Heero/Odin is inferring about RLTT his last comment are things he noted in the second scene of Chapter 31 "Kindle, Kindle…" of Survival. This being the plot point that it is, there's a lot more than that tucked around all over the place by most of the characters, but Odin's really only thought deeply on it once that was shown. **

** Really though, thoughts? **


	9. Just Communication

_**Just Communication**_

_Effective communication is 20% what you know and 80% how you feel about what you know. _

_–Jim Rohn_

* * *

_The most important thing in communication is hearing what isn't said. _

_–Peter Drucker_

* * *

_**oOo**  
_

** First, apologies… I've had this stashed away, finished, since New Year's. The idea was to have the next chapter decently along, ideally close to done, before posting this, since my update timing has been awful anyhow… but with my internship starting up, it got shuffled to a hell of a backburner. I'm dragging it back out now, and I'll frankly go insane if it gets left alone longer because the characters literally haunt my every idle moment, but… yeah. Not that anyone actually cares, but my "apprenticeship" started off downright horrifically, and once things got… corrected… well, I'm going to leave it at the notion that it took me a solid 2-3 weeks after said correction to actually believe that every single person I talked to wasn't upset with me. My self esteem is sufficiently rebuilt now though, and I'm being mentored by people who don't constantly yell at me and try to tell me I'm kinda a failure as a human being… so it's all good. Having something that at least vaguely resembles an ego is healthy.**

* * *

** On an amusing note, it took me about seventeen pages (though those scenes are not in order of the first seventeen pages anymore) to realize that this chapter was largely focused on communication and the issues therein, if I was really looking for a theme… and then I remembered that hey, that's the name of the intro for the anime, and I sorta figured, why not? I looked up the lyrics and am actually floored by how extremely romantic they are. For a show that was rather lacking in romance – unless we want to count rabid fangirlism on the parts of Relena, Noin, and Une – it's… pretty odd, to be honest. **

** So, the usual apologies, the usual excuses… Here we go!**

* * *

**July 8****th**** 198 – Wednesday – Eastern Europe**

_"Ro, ro, fight the power!"_

Hilde blinked at the noise, then grinned. _Wasn't that from some anime?_

"Check that, would you?" Noin muttered, not taking her eyes off the road.

She shrugged and reached over to dig through her General's coat pockets, procuring the phone and flipping it open. She snorted as she read the text, though; it was obviously a wrong number. "Someone signing as Odin wants to borrow your car."

To her surprise, Noin hummed out an amused noise. "Tell him it depends on when."

Hilde frowned, not expecting that, but punched in the message anyhow. "How does he know you have a car?" Noin didn't exactly get out much.

The older woman gave her a look. "He's been in it."

"Stupid question," Xu groused sleepily.

Hilde turned to glower at him even as she flushed – it _was_ a stupid question, damn it – but he hadn't even opened his eyes. If he hadn't just spoken, she would have dismissed his sprawled form as unconscious.

_"Ro, ro, fight the power!" _

"_'When do you need it?'_" Hilde read out.

"Mm… that gets tricky." Noin thought about it for a moment, then grinned. "Tell him, 'If you can't be more exact, we can carpool.'"

Hilde choked as Xu sat up fully in the back seat to frown at their general. She cast them both an amused look. "What?"

"You want someone to just tag along when we have a trunk full of guns and explosives," the Chinese man noted dryly, "while we do hit-and-run recon across Europe?"

The woman smiled beatifically. "Why not?"

Xu groaned and flopped back onto his side. "Fine. Whatever. I'm done."

_Well __**I'm**__ not._ "Who's Odin?" Hilde demanded, brain spinning.

Noin's eyes lit up. "You just said his name, didn't you?"

"How do you _know_ him?" she clarified.

If anything, Noin just seemed to find this even funnier. "How do _you_ know him?"

"I don't."

The other woman laughed delightedly. "If you insist. Let's just say he's an old friend then, mm?" She raised one brow. "Are you going to send my message, or do I need to pull over?"

* * *

**Munich, Germany – Sarracenia**

"Ooh!" Olivia covered her open mouth with one hand, then shifted to smile coyly and hold out said hand in a languid notion. "Forgive me… My name is Olivia Dontelaine."

Relena fought to keep her expression distractedly unaware of the woman's actions as the darker of her colonels smiled genially, apparently deciding that 'oblivious' was the safest course of action.

_Because we aren't friends at __**all**__,_ she couldn't help but reflect sarcastically. It was hard to say if she had picked up the habit from him at some point, or if he was reading her current body language for cues. Either way got the job done, really.

"Colonel David Mitchell," he introduced as he took her hand and kissed it formally. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Duchess."

"Mine as well," the redhead assured him, before spotting Relena. "Excuse me a moment. My lady?"

Relena raised both brows and motioned for Olivia to follow her before heading up the stairs for her loft. It was unlike the woman to come by unannounced like this – she generally styled more formal, or at least dedicated, affairs. Without really thinking about it, the princess gestured back to her boys that she was safe but to keep an eye out. She felt sure enough of the duchess to be alone with her, but that was no excuse to allow an opening for attack. If not from Olivia, then a discernable pattern could become evident to someone else to take advantage of, and in that case, it would have been Relena herself who invited them in.

Olivia, for her part, sighed dramatically as they climbed the stairs. "You always get the cute ones, Relena. My brother _never_ hires me any handsome guards. Always, they're either over forty or so plain a saint wouldn't notice them."

_Your brother obviously knows your trouble areas._ Aloud, she noted, "Plain is good, though; never underestimate the value of being able to blend seamlessly into a crowd."

The other woman sighed at her again. "And as with all other things, there's an easy way to accomplish a goal, and another that requires more talent but is foolproof all the same. If Jake didn't want me to notice or even recognize him, I very much doubt I would."

"Colonel Miller is one of a kind," Relena agreed, obliquely trying to impress the lack of familiarity between her bodyguard and would-be friend.

"Yes…" She sighed yet again as they reached the loft's antechamber. "I should stop pushing him, shouldn't I?"

Relena turned to get a true measure of the girl, and realized that it was subtle, but… the way she was pursing her lips in an unusual way for her, and her stance was less confident than usual, and she was rubbing the inside of her thumb hard against her palm despite the loose way her hand hung by her waist.

For the first time since Relena had reconnected with her, Olivia showed some being nervous, or anxious.

Allowing a smile to touch one corner of her mouth, she admitted, "If you wish to establish a working relationship with him, then yes, you need to stop flirting." Moving to palm open her office door, she looked back and added, "He's a very good friend to have, but if you don't respect his boundaries, the best you can hope for is tolerance."

"They aren't very _well-defined_ boundaries," Olivia complained as she followed her into the loft.

"They happen to be _meticulously_ defined, actually," Relena argued, allowing the door to fall shut and lock automatically. "He just obfuscates them relentlessly in order to achieve a frame of social anonymity." _He's far more chameleon than you might imagine, Dontelaine._

The redhead huffed and dropped onto a couch, tipping her head back to stare up at the sky. "I love this room," she announced.

"It's literally the crowning triumph of the estate," Relena noted in agreement. Then, after a moment, "You didn't really come here to ask advice about my bodyguard, did you?"

"I ran into him the other night at The Commune and he seemed about ready to skin me," Olivia defended plaintively. "Do I truly irritate him _that_ much?"

Relena was tempted to just say yes, but that wouldn't be _entirely_ fair. Jake found the woman annoying, yes, but by his own admission, most of his upset the other night had been due to how he knew Dorothy would react to the other noblewoman. On the other hand, it was difficult to find the appropriate middle ground on the subject as well, since he _did_ find her rather obnoxious… almost entirely because of her need to verbally half hang on him. Her colonel didn't like clingy behavior unless it came from someone under the age of ten, but… Come to think of it, she had never seen him do anything more flirtatious than watch a shapely woman very attentively in passing.

_No wonder it makes him uncomfortable._ She had no doubts that he knew how to play the part, he was _Jake_, but that sort of tit for tat didn't seem to be in his innate emotional set. Teasing, yes, intimately too comfortable, on occasion, but there was a gap missing in between the two where what most people did ought to fit.

"You don't bother him when you're not crowding him," she stated after a few moments.

"And how would you define 'crowding'?" Olivia asked shrewdly, eyes narrowed.

"_That_," Relena noted, unable to help a chuckle, "is something you're going to have to sort out on your own."

The other woman frowned at her. "You won't share or you don't know?"

"_Meticulously defined_, Olivia." She raised both her brows as she sat down on the couch across from her. "Pray tell, what kind of generic boundaries require that kind of attention?"

Olivia growled irritably and dropped her head back on the low couch to glower at the sky. Relena shook her head, debating the absurdity of having had this little conversation at all… and Dorothy came in from the bathroom, hair pulled over one shoulder, halfway through a fishbone braid.

Relena had the sinking feeling that she now knew _exactly_ how cornered Jake had felt the other night.

The heiress' eyes narrowed as she debated her options. Olivia tilted her head to one side without picking it up off the back of the couch and made the first move. "Hello," she greeted neutrally.

Dorothy raised one eyebrow before continuing to walk towards Relena's couch. "Hello," she returned. Sitting down, she asked, "Come to suck up?"

Relena briefly allowed her eyes to fall shut as she debated if she had any options herself.

"Maybe a little," their guest agreed. "It's hard not to, when you know who has your answers in hand." She lifted her head, though she didn't bother to sit up properly. "Her advice was worth the effort, though."

Dorothy didn't look too impressed. "You probably needed it."

"There hardly would have been any point in seeking it, otherwise," Olivia returned amicably.

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "What do you _want_?"

"Mm… difficult," Olivia mused. "At the moment… an alluring bodyguard for company."

_Oh God._

"You can't just steal people for yourself," Dorothy snarled.

Sometimes, Dorothy's possessiveness knew no bounds. Relena's mind was scrambling for a way to dismantle that statement without throwing a tantrum over being viewed as a possession; unfortunately, she wasn't coming up with anything that should be heard from the mouth of anyone older than twelve.

"I'm not stealing anything," Olivia denied, finally sitting up and leaning forward, eyes burning with intent. "I'm _invading_."

And there was no way at _all_ to work with that. _No interruptions then,_ she decided resignedly. _They can just hash it out and get it over with._

"Indubitably," Dorothy sneered, not even hesitating at the other woman's wording. "Your efforts have been entirely transparent."

"Intentionally so," Olivia returned. "Opacity would have only earned distrust." She settled back into her seat, arms spread across the back of the couch, and crossed her legs. "I am putting down roots, and I am not so foolish to build foundations in anything I am not. I have no wish to see my efforts crumble down the line for the sake of some small comfort and conceit in the present."

"Manipulative," Dorothy accused, hands tightening on her braid.

"I've made absolutely no claims otherwise." She waved a hand. "Transparency, yes? I wear my heart and intentions on the sleeve, and have allowed my queen full measure of me, as a true vassal ought." She arched one brow. "I have been judged as a mild nuisance, but hardly wanting, and have presented myself in such a way that I can be molded now to her preference for future applications." She smirked. "I can curb any irritating habits quickly, once I'm made aware."

Relena felt a weight settle in her stomach as the extent of Olivia's understanding sunk into her very bones. She had been aware of the implications before now, of course, but she hadn't realized the other woman viewed their relationship so… clinically. _Jake isn't the only one with meticulously maintained social dynamics._

"Transparent does not translate to genuine," Dorothy contended coldly. "Playing subservient is not your true nature."

"Accurate, which is where the difference between 'playing subservient' and offering deference out of respect lies," Olivia argued. "I know exactly where I stand; I'm playing at nothing, and I will _not_ stoop beneath the restraints of my pride. I _am_ a Lady Dontelaine." She tossed her head slightly, hair swaying. "The solution to the problem you're presenting is careful selection of the one you choose to offer your services to; a balance of respect that will not be tossed aside by either part is essential." Her smile was smug, and somewhat mocking. "Your presence here only argues that this is not only a good choice, but _the_ choice. There have been no signs of Relena possibly strong-arming you into her service, as her brother might have, and your brilliance in these matters can hardly be denied. Your defense of her only lends more credit to just how important allegiance to her really is. So no, Lady Catalonia… I am not going anywhere. You shall simply have to get used to me." Her lips twitched. "And recall that I will hardly be the last to recognize her as sovereign. Your time of having her all to yourself was only borrowed."

_'You have good ideas… I want to see them happen. I want to make __**sure**__ they happen…'_ _'You need to calm down and figure out how to handle this because I am __**not**__ going to be the last person to stand behind you and your goals.'_ Jake's words to her when she first doubted his motives for her, his loyalty. Relena couldn't help but smile. She had been so very flustered, and no small part of it had been her outright attraction to him, for all that the argument had stemmed from self-esteem issues. He _had_ promised her that she would gain more followers purely on merit, and Olivia was far from the first since Jake, but the way she had phrased it… rung true.

Dorothy, meanwhile, seemed to be caught between the fact that Olivia was claiming _her_ as a guiding light, praising her, while at the same time twisting her arguments against her and belittling her. A flush had risen in her cheeks and her eyes narrowed again as she studied the other noblewoman. Any hopes Relena might have had that she would either continue the argument or concede Olivia's points, however, were dashed a moment later.

"Fawning, low-bred, spaceborn skank."

If there was ever a moment that Relena might have considered disowning the heiress, this was probably it. She honestly wanted to crawl under the couch and _die_ of pure mortification.

"Infantile, scheming strumpet with no taste," Olivia returned easily, eyes lighting up with amusement.

Dorothy's lips twisted in a smirk as she relaxed back into the couch. "Dim-witted third daughter with compensation issues; Mommy never had time for the baby."

"Satan's little princess, so used to everything coming on a silver platter that she would starve in a stocked kitchen," Olivia cooed.

Dorothy snorted. "I can run a household perfectly well, thank-you."

"Oh, but you might break a nail, sweetheart. At least you know how to con someone else into the dirty work."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you couldn't _afford_ such a nice house and requisite staff."

"It's okay, sweetie, I know you need all the help you can get, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Self-sufficiency just isn't for everyone."

Relena couldn't help but stare as they continued on. It wasn't the fact that they were tossing insults… it was the fact that the tension from before had completely vanished. With every nasty comment, both women seemed to relax more… and become more amused.

"Are you _certain_ your father was your father? There isn't much of a family resemblance, you know."

"Your daddy just made sure to marry a woman who could pass as his sister so he wouldn't risk that worry. …Or _was_ she his sister? That might explain a few things."

"Mm, your spouse needs to have good taste, and it simply can't be helped if you're already the best yourself."

"Variety is the spice of life, darling. And as for taste, there's simply no accounting for it. I can't believe you _paid_ for that blouse."

"Fashion is never sensible, it simply _is_. It takes talent to make something look good."

"And sensible _with_ flair takes actual creativity. I make it a point to _set_ the fashion standard instead of following it. Personal seamstresses exist for a reason."

"Too safe," Dorothy argued. "If you refuse to take the chances, you'll never reap any high-risk rewards, and no one will notice you."

Olivia rolled her eyes, smirking. "I'm perfectly fine with the fact that my family has never been known for heretical behavior, thank-you."

Dorothy blinked, then outright _cackled_ delightedly. "Oh, I'd completely _forgotten_ about that!"

Olivia snickered. "My great aunt Amelia was convinced she had dreamt that newscast for _days_."

_What?_ On second thought, however, she probably didn't _want_ to know.

"They struck it from the records, I thought."

"Within _hours_," Olivia agreed. "Human memory is lasting, though, and everyone loves their gossip."

"Scandals are always entertaining," Dorothy agreed happily.

"You heard about what happened with Shawna Timoran, didn't you?"

"Subtlety was never her suit," Dorothy bemoaned, obviously knowing exactly what the other woman was talking about. "She should never have even _tried_."

"Not everyone can recognize their weaknesses," Olivia pointed out.

"If she has any sense, this ought to send the message home. If it doesn't, she's a lost cause; it won't ever sink in."

"It might not, if she's anything like her brothers."

"Ugh, don't _remind_ me, they're _hopeless_…"

Relena's attention was pulled away from her friends as her phone vibrated, and she pulled it out to check the text.

_'Dani says lunch is ready. Are you going to come down, or should I bring up a tray?' _

"Lunch is going on the table," Relena announced, standing, deciding to ignore the apparent reconciliation between the women for now. "Shall we?

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**L1-X16426**

"Well, I'd love to help, honestly," the man insisted earnestly, spreading his hands and shrugging. "But they weren't exactly talkative. As it is, if you'd waited another couple days, you wouldn't have needed to make the trip."

Milliardo resisted the urge to grind his teeth, or at least sigh. No one was trying to deny that the troops had been there, at least – though whether that was because they were honest or just not stupid was unclear. However, the overall consensus was that the army had surrounded the communications centers, thrashed the equipment, held a peaceful occupation for approximately twelve hours, and left. They had probably restocked and refueled, but no one was owning up to business dealings with the rogues. Again, they weren't stupid enough to offer up any potentially damning evidence.

Frankly, they were being so genial, so easygoing and cooperative, that he was inclined to believe they were all fully in on the scheme. Unfortunately, however, he couldn't haul a person in on charges of subterfuge for being _nice_.

Naturally, no one seemed to have any idea as to what direction the interlopers had been headed. And, as this was the colonies and not Earth, there were no possible bystanders to act as witness to unusual traffic, no physical evidence or trail… _Only nothingness in the nothingness._ It was a game of shadows up here… and he had the sinking feeling that he had just entered a blindfolded game of tag.

He _hated_ space…

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany – Sarracenia**

"Hey, Lena…"

The princess met his eyes readily, though her mouth was twisted in something that was somewhere between a grimace and a smile. He flicked his eyes to his right, being perfectly subtle, but there was no way she _couldn't_ know what he was referencing. She looked that way herself, and downright _bewilderment_ settled into her expression without erasing any of the emotions that had come previous. "I honestly haven't the slightest idea," she told him tiredly.

He nodded, watching the two out of the corner of his eye while otherwise focusing on his food, considering the possibilities. He could have sworn he had heard about a hell of a catfight that the colonel had managed to avert the other night… yet somehow, the two noblewomen were now sitting on the loveseat in the sitting room, chatting like they'd been the best of friends since early childhood. "Any idea when?" he asked quietly, just… frankly, a bit lost.

"A few minutes ago," was the rueful response.

He frowned. There were a few implications in that. "I thought you didn't know?"

She turned and scowled at him. "I was present, but I'm still entirely lost as to the _how_," she groused. "One moment, they were verbally tearing each other to shreds; the next, they were bosom buddies. The mechanics are _entirely_ above my pay grade."

He snorted up his mashed potatoes at that and coughed hard, trying not to choke. He'd never thought he'd hear Relena say _that_, that was for sure. Once he'd gotten his airway safely clear of debris, he noted, "If that's your conclusion, ma'am, I think I'll just leave it lie."

"Probably the safest bet," Relena agreed tiredly. "Our best bet of comprehension is probably Mailin."

Lin frowned dubiously. "Even if she's some super linguist, I don't think she speaks _that_ language," he argued. Shaking his head, he added, "She's off this morning, though. She's jogging the neighborhood with her dog."

Relena raised her brows. "Are the grounds that boring?"

"I think she wants to show off the dog," Lin decided. "We're all used to the giant mop, and she wants fresh audiences to his apparent beauty." He shook his head. "Personally, I don't get it."

"It's a dog," Relena agreed in a lackluster tone.

"It looks like a giant _mop_," Lin reiterated. "I've seen some awesome-looking dogs, but I seriously want to find the attachment for the broom handle on his belly, some days."

The blonde woman snickered at the image. "Don't tell Mai."

"Why do you think I waited until she was out of the house?"

They finished their meal and decided to leave the Romefeller women to their own devices. Mitchell was only supposed to be there another two days, and seeing as they needed to leave for a dinner in Austria in a few hours, then tomorrow morning they were heading out and not due back for a few days, this was… well, it was the last they'd be seeing of the utterly ridiculous shirts, seeing as he figured the colonel intended to follow them around like old times. Yesterday, the damn thing had been bright _pink_.

It had also been a very big mistake to comment on this fact. At all.

In any case, there was no reason to leave the man unharassed so long as he was sacrificing his vacation time on them, so, since the princess had stayed up late and gotten up early to get her work done and have a free handful of hours not spent in the car, they went colonel hunting. After all, where there was one, the other probably wasn't far. They were going down the hall aiming for a shortcut to the courtyard when they heard Jake's irritated voice.

"Drop it already."

"You're just-"

"I don't _care_," the other man hissed. "Sentimental bullshit doesn't count for _shit_."

"You're better than this," Mitchell's voice snarled back.

Lin exchanged a look with Lena, the silent question of whether to interrupt or eavesdrop dismissed almost as soon as it had a chance to rise between them. They were standing right outside the cinema area, which was, at this time of day, generally abandoned… which evidently made it a good place for private conversation. In any case, this was almost certainly a continuation of the argument she had had him find the vid record of the other day, and for a wonder, it was in _English_. There wasn't a chance in hell they were going to ruin their chances to figure it out.

"You're insistent on being willfully _stupid_," Jake growled back. "I'm not so naïve to think this is going to end without something shattering. The best case scenario is the only one who burns being _me_, so forgive me if I'm not _ready_, asshole."

"You said-"

"I know what I said."

Mitchell let out an extremely aggravated noise. "You're being a damn diva. There's nothing to _lose_, and everything to gain!"

"Keep your voice down," Jake snapped. "The only one who thinks there isn't anything at stake is you; my repercussions are not yours." He sighed. "Dave… I can't let it happen again."

Mitchell sighed too, though it seemed more exasperated than anything. "It's not _going_ to."

"Do me a favor and gamble with your own soul. Mine's got a bit of mileage."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, "You're so focused on your own fears you're blinding yourself to the truth. What am I going to have to do to make you _get_ it?"

"…What are you going to do, hm?"

A chill swept through Lin's spine at that tone of voice, and he knew that the innocent question was anything but.

Mitchell seemed to realize it too. "Jake-"

"Get out of my house." His voice was cold, and eerily calm, without any inflection at all.

"I didn't mean-"

"Now. You won't play your hand here; I'm not dealing with this bullshit right now."

Without warning, the door in front of them opened fully, and Colonel Miller strode into the hallway. Or rather, he started to, then froze as he saw the two of them… and shit, but this couldn't look like anything but exactly what it was. He was looking at them very… levelly. Lin didn't dare hazard a glance to his left to see how the princess was handling it; it wasn't like the man could do anything to her anyway. The only cognizant thought that was coming to mind was a repeated shrill of just how _dead_ he was.

"Wait," Mitchell called, evidently trying to finish the conversation. "Volley-"

Something in Jake's expression… for lack of a better word, _snapped_, and with perfectly fluid execution he whirled and flung himself at his friend with a snarl.

_Oh __**fuck**__._

Relena dashed into the cinema room after him, leaving Lin with no choice but to follow, praying she had a _plan_. The other colonel had responded in kind and the two men were having it out in front of the tiered levels with a kind of ferocity Lin hadn't seen since Miller attacked his father last September. The princess led him up two levels before commanding his attention.

"You're only going to have a few seconds, so listen and do this _exactly_," she began.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

One moment he was riding his rage out and the next, Relena was in front of him, which was jarring at best. A door slammed, and as he moved forward, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Stand down," she commanded in a guttural tone. "He's been removed and I've no intention of letting you chase him."

The full weight of it all bore down on him again as his muscles relaxed and instead started to shudder, the pure frenzy of his wrath fading into tremors. Now… _Shit._ Was that it, then? Was everything-

Relena sighed and moved into his personal space, pressing the side of her neck to his and relaxing her weight against him, reaching her right hand up to cradle the side of his head. "Breathe," she soothed, resting her left hand on his shoulder before running it down his arm to interlace her fingers with his. "Whatever this was about, it isn't worth this."

He took a deep, shuddering breath that was as much physical response to the loss of adrenaline as emotional, and she sighed before tugging him to one side. "Sit with me," she urged, leading the way, and he didn't resist. Every breath was calming, a faint glimmer of roses and cool water… He buried his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder once they'd settled on the couch and wrapped his free arm around her waist in a tight hug, not willing to let go of the thread of sanity she was offering. His heart thundered dangerously as he damned himself yet again. If only it had been someone _else_… If only _he_ hadn't… But he wouldn't have ever met her, then, never found the girl, found _this_…

It was only fate, or karma maybe, that made it so that when he finally found what he spent his entire life yearning for, he _couldn't_ just follow through and be happy. He was just _that_ good at utterly fucking himself over.

"Easy," Relena muttered as he let out a soft keening noise in spite of himself, carding her fingers through her hair. "Breathe… relax… let it go." She let go of his hand to return his one-armed hug and draw circles on his back with her nails. "It's not worth the heartache," she murmured.

If only it were that easy.

"Forget for now," she insisted, almost as if she could read his mind, tipping her head backwards so she could rest the side of it against his, ear to ear. "Drop it and leave it lie… you can come back to it later. Focus on here…" she soothed. "Focus on me and just drift awhile…"

Taking another deep breath of roses and rainfall, he tried to just not think.

"Just breathe…"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany – Dorothy's Townhouse**

"Colonel? _Scheisse_… Come in, come in…" Tristan stepped back and gestured the same, considering for a moment before deciding to lead him towards the living room by the kitchen. There was blood smeared across his face, and with the way he was moving, that was only the bare edge of it. "What happened? Do you need me to call Ffion?"

"I haven't catalogued anything yet, so that may not be necessary," the man groused in a way that only the extremely exhausted or the deeply in pain can manage. "At the same time, the gesture would be greatly appreciated. I'm not entirely sure driving was a good idea, but I don't remember blacking out, so I'm at least mostly sure I'm not concussed."

"That sounds dubious," Tristan noted as he strode ahead of him into the room to grab an afghan or two that he was sure Catalonia would not remember let alone miss if they became bloody, and tossed them on the woman's least favored piece of furniture, just incase. Lindsay and B.J. looked up from their places at the stove and breakfast bar, curious, then incredulous as Colonel Mitchell stumbled in after him.

"Call Ffion," B.J. muttered quickly as he stood and made his way over to the recliner Tristan was tucking blankets into, watching their houseguest. "What happened?"

Mitchell snorted miserably as he half-collapsed into the chair. "I messed up."

"_Allerdings,_" B.J. returned sarcastically. "Do we get more detail than that?"

"Maybe a little," Mitchell seemed to almost laugh out. "I haven't finished deciding yet."

Tristan frowned. Laughter wasn't exactly… "I think he might be hysterical," he muttered to his leader.

Mitchell, evidently, heard him, and half choked out another laugh. "Maybe a little," he agreed.

B.J. sighed, resisting the urge to throw up his hands. "What hurts, then?"

"Quite possibly… everything."

It was Tristan's turn to sigh. "Off with the coat, then, let's see the damage. How's your breathing?"

He didn't have much formal training, but he could handle basic shit, and make assessments, at least for when their paramedic friend arrived. The more bruises and contusions he found, though… after he was fairly sure that there was a break in the man's upper arm he couldn't help but shake his head. He knew how well Mitchell could fight; he'd shown him and Alexis a few things when time allowed for it. "I don't think I want to see the other guys," he decided.

This time, the colonel _did_ laugh outright hysterically. "Don't jump to conclusions, now…"

His stomach sank. "You lost?"

"Utterly. Then I got rescued by a damsel in distress."

B.J. gave him an incredulous look. "A damsel."

"Just in time too," Mitchell mused carelessly. "I think my ribs would have given out in another ten seconds." He dropped his head back. "God help me, I'm not even sure I bruised him…"

The implications there were upsetting. "You're saying this was from one guy?" Tristan asked incredulously. At the lack of denial – hell, even another giggle as confirmation – he shook his head. "What the _fuck_, man?"

"I lost the initiative," he complained. "Take too many hits before you have a chance to send one back, and you're too just too damn slow to catch up." He let out an explosive sigh. "Jake's always made me look slow."

Tristan just stared at him, the pieces fitting together with a nasty sort of click. Mitchell, considering his position and reputation, and what they'd outright seen, was pretty up there, and the only 'Jake' he might be referencing that easily would be the princess' bodyguard, Colonel Jake Miller… reportedly, his best friend. The whole thing just sounded… ugly.

On the bright side, it made a lot more sense why everyone seemed to be so at ease on those occasions when Relena went about with only Miller to guard her safety. It explained some of the hysteria too.

"What _happened_?" he demanded, feeling even more lost for knowing more.

Mitchell just closed his eyes. "Say the devil's name, and he appears," he announced cryptically. "It's my own damn fault… I just wasn't expecting it, and I really should have."

"You're supposed to expect your best friend to beat the shit out of you?" Tristan half-shouted.

His chuckle was considerably weaker and darker than the previous. "Everyone has a breaking point." Then, another hysterical sort of giggle. "Shit, all in maybe thirty seconds… man's nothing if not efficient…"

There was nothing worth saying to that.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 9****th**** 198 – Thursday – South Africa**

Odin was awesome; this was a very firmly established fact in her brain. He took the definition of 'dedicated' to whole new levels, he was so smart he came across as a dummy half the time, and he had a spooky way of figuring stuff out on a near expert level even if he'd only been introduced to it ten minutes ago. Mariemaia never had any doubts that she had chosen herself a very _good_ role model, for all that it had more or less been a chance meeting and absolute dependence that led to it.

What she hadn't ever calculated into this, however, was just how _creative_ he could get when the mood struck him. Really, it shouldn't be news, what with exactly how he'd _gotten_ the ship they'd used to drop Lucrezia's gundam care package, or honestly, the ways he came up with to teach her stuff, but…

Odin might be spooky when he decided to be thorough about something… but he was officially _crazy_ when he decided to be thorough _and_ random.

_'mom?'_ she texted, trying to sort her feelings out about this one. She couldn't exactly deny the genius of it, and it was fantastically cool on some level… but a whole level of creepy too, and…

_'What is it, baby?'_

She started trying to decide how to type this out, tried, erased it, and tried again. She looked it over one more time before sending it, trying to make up her mind.

_'i just crawled under someone's porch and stole something buried almost in the foundation that i'm pretty sure the people living there had no idea existed.'_

She looked at it miserably for a moment before deleting it; that sounded way more criminal than it was… It couldn't be stealing when Odin was the one who'd put it there over three years ago, right? They hadn't even known it was there. He'd just… borrowed their layout… he'd trespassed, but he hadn't broken or upset anything…

Her mom was texting again. _'Is everything okay?'_

She stared at her screen, then considered the very dirty ammo tin they'd retrieved that was sitting by her feet that had a little hard drive duct taped to one side of the inside of it, to keep it from rattling around. It wasn't like anything was wrong… she was pretty sure they hadn't actually done anything mean to innocent people, it wasn't like the thing had been dangerous or anything… it just… had a really _unique_ storage space…

Inspiration struck, and she grinned before carefully typing it out.

_'odin has a really interesting take on geocaching.'_

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Graz, Austria**

Russel Blomberg rested one shoulder against the wall, considering the crowd this evening as he sipped at his drink. Most of his day had already been burned away with work, and while he did enjoy the opportunities these little social affairs brought about, said possibilities could only blossom if you prepared the ground ahead of time, so to speak. Politics was a constantly shifting game, and at times, it could be difficult to simply keep both feet under yourself, let alone excel. The mood was an important dynamic before any sort of deal could take place, and the mood often depended heavily on exactly who was present… which, of course, made observation before beginning a must.

Vandusen was someone to avoid, but his wife and daughter were both present and had him wrapped around their little fingers to keep them entertained, so it shouldn't be difficult. Asbury too, and Pinion, Lindstrom, Boutelle, Macklin… Russel actually grimaced. _Not going to be making much progress tonight,_ he decided with some frustration. Too much room for interference… it just wouldn't be worthwhile.

_Oh well._ He sipped from his glass. _I could use a break from work, after all._ He focused on the women. There was a grouping over by the refreshments table, and he took care to see who he could identify, and who he would need to ask about… not knowing was simply not an option. Evelyn and Faith, Daphne, Kirstin, Laverne, Vivian, Tyerra, Olivia, Alina, Kelsey, Dorothy…

All either too young or already married… or in the last case, and horrific idea altogether, no matter how much power her husband might gain. No one _sane_ tried to catch a tiger by the toe.

"Daydreaming?"

Russel blinked at Dustin before offering him a wry smile. "It's been a long day."

"I can drink to that," the other man agreed, lifting his own glass in a lazy cheer before bringing it back to his mouth. "I'm intent on minding my own business tonight, but I'm debating if asking Fredalynne to dance with me counts."

"I would imagine, considering," Russel noted dryly. The younger of the Loy Dukes always doted on Garrett's daughter; it was frankly a surprise to him that a betrothal had not yet been announced. "Why the reserve?"

Dustin's chuckle was on the disbelieving side. "You didn't hear about what the princess got put through this morning, did you?"

Russel frowned. Honestly, he hadn't considered the Peacecraft girl's presence overmuch; despite her reputation, she had made out for a rather weak start; presumably because immediately after her appointment as Minister of Foreign Affairs last week, her brother had left for the colonies. Putting her in the seat of minister was a transparent power play, but it lost his effectiveness when the puppet master left the stage as well. She had gotten a few new policies put through without any resistance, and they had gone into effect this morning, but that had as much to do with their lack of practicality as well as the avid adoration the girl could attract due to her standing.

Anyone could write and get a law put through is they didn't change any relevant facts of commerce with it, and they belonged to a family that so many were looking to get favors for fawning over. "I'm familiar with the work, but I can't imagine what you're referring to," he noted, debating exactly how random Dustin was feeling… and how inebriated, considering his flush.

"The rerouting of border trade."

He considered the new commerce law that, in the end, made the import/export business slightly more organized, as certain supplies had to pass through specified routes when crossing borders between the countries. The argument the change had been compelling enough, he supposed; if they specialized the routes, trade was forced through more areas which hopefully would revive the economy somewhat in terms of jobs and overall trade. It would lower the prices on various imports as they would not have to travel as far before dispersal, and would require more attentive care, as the strict international shipping routes instead became practically a sort of traveling caravan. The impetus had been lowering the tariffs somewhat as well… He supposed if it worked exactly as planned, it could be helpful for increase in the overall populace's morale, but in the end when the numbers were crunched, it the costs vs. benefits between the two systems was nearly identical… and that was based solely on if she even managed to successfully enforce the ruling. It was a fancy way of making yourself look productive, while really it rang of a woman's obsessive need to categorize and label everything while presenting herself as complicated.

"She's satisfying her obsessive compulsive tendencies," he pointed out dryly. "Little more."

Dustin snorted into his glass. "What she did is put Donovan and Bryant's balls in a vice and smile sweetly as she offered to turn the crank for them. She put a social services program through RLTT in over a month ago that regulates commerce on the local level, as a grocer's branching of her Militia. It's only due to start administration in ten days from now, which is why no one had heard about it, but Marquise's signatures are already on it. Any goods that come through those checkpoints have to be evaluated before sales can run in that county, and she has the manpower to enforce it. If only certain goods are allowed through certain cities, a flag goes up if a single thing is out of place, and it makes it so any idiot can run an inspection, so she can pull off that level of constant inspection without doing much to slow down the process on distributing."

Nearly constant inspections… that _did_ shed an entirely different light. That would put an effective end to the relatively rampant embezzling and black market dealings that were the majority of Romefeller's bread and butter… and, as Dustin had already pointed out, effectively ruin the Pommier and Reinhoel boys' forced labor trade. "Do they have time to clean up?" he asked quietly. Don and Bryant were good customers of his.

"If they're exceedingly lucky, willing to take on a good amount of debt, and can survive the backlash of their middle management when they try to shut down, there's a _chance_," Dustin snorted. "Bryant was bragging yesterday about having nearly eight hundred Kazakhstan refugees broken in and ready to be shipped to the fields and mines. The last I knew, he had them tucked away near Balti, but the new laws are in action in Ukraine as of tomorrow, and Hungary in five days. Not moving on Moldova immediately is a mercy act, but I don't think they can make it anyway. They were always careful enough before that they moved slowly, and if they _are_ too obvious, the normal authorities might pick up on it." He shook his head. "No, they're damned, and I'm going to keep my nose clean from here. That was a little too well thought out and executed for my taste. I would advise you to cut your ties to those two; I get the sense that Darlian's going hunting, and I'd hate to see who she takes as a trophy next."

Russel frowned as Dustin took his leave and headed over to the Melendy girl he was courting, considering the situation. Of course he was cutting ties to the two who had gotten themselves caught; he had known that he would as soon as there was even a hint of a noose around either man's head from the beginning. The question he was pondering was exactly how long the plans leading to this motion had been in place, and how far did the intelligence that had turned it up reach. To have arranged it all so neatly… It was as if Peacecraft had _intended_ to disgrace himself in order to pass power to his unassuming sister. But no, he _knew_ Peacecraft too well for that, he had too much pride, and he had nearly declared a new war with his actions in Sudan…

He remembered hearing a rumor that Peacecraft had failed to realize that the princess was no longer living in the room next to him for over a month. He had dismissed it as ridiculous, yet another show being put on between the two in order to manipulate Romefeller, but…

"Ah, good evening, Chancellor Blomberg. I trust you are enjoying yourself?"

The subject of his thoughts had appeared before him, smiling genially and looking every inch the high-class noblewoman she was in a sky blue evening gown that effectively showed off her body's assets, her hair twisted in an intricate pattern at the back of her head.

He smiled back. "I am happy to enjoy and evening's respite, Princess Peacecraft. I thank you for the opportunity."

"Darlian-Peacecraft, please," she corrected firmly. "And I would hardly say that all this is due to me." Her smile was far more winning this time, instead of simply nice. "I recall receiving an invitation, after all. And I could hardly pass up the opportunity of a frivolous evening, with how busy my life has been of late."

"Ah, but the mere presence of your company makes all the difference, my dear," he offered magnanimously. "I look forward to seeing more of you, now that you're a minister."

"It promises to be a very taxing occupation, I'm afraid," the princess returned cheerfully. "I believe it will be all the more rewarding for it, however." She hid a soft chuckle behind a gloved hand. "You should expect to find me at just as many of these events in proportion, I expect, to ease off the tension; it's so nice to see everyone getting along despite the words exchanged over politics in daylight." She shook her head. "I've been all too reclusive, these past few years; it's past time I entered the social scene, I think."

"I certainly couldn't disagree," Russel returned amicably, even while he really hoped she was overstating; her attendance certainly _did_ change the mood at this sort of thing, and that could, in turn, make his life more difficult. She was too young, too naïve, to be worth much in his business; idealism had a way of obstructing capitalism. "Might I say that you look fantastic, tonight?" Even if she was an obstacle, he could handle a blockade; enemies were to be avoided at all costs, however, and naïve or not, this young woman could cause him quite a lot of trouble if she had the inclination.

She laughed delightedly at that, sweeping her skirt with one hand and offering him a slight dip of a curtsy. "The thought is appreciated, Chancellor, I assure you." She winked. "After all, I did not spend so much time getting ready to be ignored." Bringing her glass to her mouth again, she paused and watched him for a moment over the rim before smirking gently. "I imagine flattery opens many doors that might remain stuck fast, in your trade."

Russel felt his throat dry as she sipped at her champagne, parsing out _exactly_ what that comment could mean. It was a truth for politics, and for a great deal of his known work, yes… She was stating an easy fact; it was well known that he wasn't above brownnosing to keep himself in good graces. Honey caught more flies than vinegar, and he lived firmly by that motto. But at the same time, her previously innocent gaze was almost mocking now, as if they shared a secret that she found terribly amusing… And what Dustin had just finished telling him about Don and Bryant suddenly haunted his thoughts.

_Please, let her only be fishing._

"I've yet to meet a man who would prefer a rude partner to a genial one," he returned carefully, hopefully without too much hesitation. "A courteous manner will take you far in this world, princess."

"Oh, to be sure, Chancellor. So many fail to realize how harassing a person ought to be a last resort; no one likes a bully, after all. Far better to simply suggest cooperation is in a partner's best interest, no?" Her smile turned coy. "I am very impressed by your network of contacts, sir. I should love the opportunity to ask your advice about them in the future."

He resisted the urge to lick his lips, cold dread dripping down his spine even as surprise tried to race up it. He knew himself well enough to realize it was a miracle he had not begun to tremble at the onslaught of unexpected emotions just yet. "I look forward to conducting business with you in the future, then," he murmured, choosing his words with enough care that he should not give away any more information than she might already have, even while extending a pleasantly vague offer. If she was actually innocent of his newfound suspicions, she would accept wholeheartedly, but if-

"Oh, we will just have to see," she returned almost indifferently. "There is so little time in the day, after all, and of course, more than one route to any goal. Curiosity is one thing, and necessity another, but it cannot be denied that you know Romefeller better than most."

He nodded slightly to show he understood, even as his hands began to shake. She had no need for his services, idealistic woman as she was, but she knew just whom a sizable portion of the Romefeller gentry liked to filter dirty money through. _Damn and __**damn**__._ He hadn't even suspected this might be coming. "Of course." Quickly, he wet his throat with a sip from his glass, made a few calculations, and decided on the safest course. "Naturally, my lady, I am at your service, should you wish it."

"Naturally," she agreed easily. "I appreciate the concession, Chancellor." Raising her glass in a cheer, she began to move away. "I will be in touch."

"I look forward to it," he answered automatically, even as he turned away as well to find some semblance of privacy. He needed to gather his nerves… and decide on exactly what piece the princess _was_ on the board. His dismissal of her as a pawn was unforgivably erroneous.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 12****th**** 198 – Sunday – Strasbourg, Germany**

"If you don't go now, you might miss your train."

Marlé made a face and shrugged. "There's another one in three hours if I do." She shifted her pack, then gave in and just asked. "I thought we were treasure hunting; what's up now?" He'd asked her if she was cool with going back to Amsterdam again sorta out of the blue, and then when he announced he wasn't coming along, it was pretty obvious he was up to something. Taking a deep breath and focusing on _not_ clenching her jaw, she added, "Did Lucrezia call?"

Odin shook his head, though he didn't look up from the pack he was reorganizing. "I need to hit a few places that are too isolated to get to without a car. Lucrezia has one."

…She was getting ditched again, then. Honest to God _ditched_, not shuffled around a bit because he was about to do something crazy dangerous like he sometimes did.

This was just _stupid_.

"How long do you figure you'll be?" she asked sullenly, shifting the weight of her backpack, thinking.

"Not sure. Somewhere between three days and eight, probably." He looked up at her and gave her a resigned sort of smile. "I'll stay in touch this time."

She gave him an irritated look anyway, since she knew she couldn't hide it, and he already expected it anyhow. She was seriously starting to want to demand if it was honestly the end of the world if she _met_ any of his friends, but… Well, first of all, keeping her out of it wasn't actually his idea – he was doing what her mom had told him to. And second… that would be giving it away.

_Hm. _

She sighed and shook her head. "Whatever." Picking up her duffel, she gave him a lazy sort of wave before turning away. "I'll talk to you later."

If she was going to do this, she had to work out a few details before he skipped town.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Rome, Italy**

**_"Flight 527 for MO-28946 is now ready for boarding. If you are a passenger for flight 527, please report to gate nine for processing." _**

Quatre focused on Cory, and couldn't help but smile when he saw just how he was _still_ absolutely focused on his phone, tapping away at the keys. Before they'd parted ways with Heero – Odin, he needed to remember that it was Odin now – Marlé had insisted on a phone like she and Odin kept, which had seemed intelligent enough, so long as precautions were kept. Fast, easy communication was too vital to pass up, and the operating system Marlé had designed was cleverly just what they needed. While Quatre was appreciative, however, Cory was absolutely… taken.

The boy was nursing an altogether adorable crush on the girl. He now understood exactly why his sisters had seen fit to tease him endlessly on the subject of Alicia Mae when he was ten. He wasn't going to put the boy through it, but the temptation was there all the same. At any rate, Cory was far subtler than he himself had been, though how much of that was age and personality was debatable.

"Time to go," he muttered after a moment, downing the last of his tea and standing. They'd been on the planet long enough… really, he never would have imagined he _could_ leave space for so long as he had. _Libra_ was a lifetime ago… and not a pleasant memory in any case. Going back… it ought to have felt good, like going home, but… it just didn't. Dread was pooling in his gut…

For all that he wanted to reconnect with the world and get back on track… he wasn't any more ready to talk to his sisters than he was the Maguanacs.

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_ "They're working with Lucrezia now, backing her like they used to support you. They've been anxious for news about you, though." _

_ Quatre felt his stomach twist. "Have you mentioned this reunion to them yet?" _

_ Heero shook his head. "No. Should I?" _

_ Acceptance, a calm lake of… from Heero, it was probably a whole lake of 'not my business so I'm not going to get bothered about it'. God, if that didn't take the edge off the situation… He'd __**missed**__ Heero. "No... not just yet. Maybe after a little while, but I'll probably just handle it myself." The idea honestly made him want to throw up, but he couldn't run for the rest of his life; he refused. _

_ He wanted a cigarette. _

_ Instead he took a deep breath and focused on that calm center his friend was acting as. He was glad that the insular group of fighters had taken to someone else in his absence; Rashid anchored them, but only just. Rashid was the center they worked around, easily the father figure that reminded them – sometimes forcibly – that they were family, but he lacked drive. Without an outside influence, the Maguanacs ceased to be a fighting force, and with the world as it was, they __**needed**__ to stay in the game. _

_ The specifics of what he had said, though… "Lucrezia?" She'd always insisted on Noin. _

_ Amusement, elation, something…belonging? Inclusiveness? Not quite loyalty, at least… Quatre blinked at the sudden burst as Heero grinned, and the emotions faded down to ripples. "It is her name." There was something impish about his expression. _

_ Quatre smiled as well, bemused but happy his friend felt that good about something. Really, though, if she had been working with Auda and Ahmad and the others… they practically had an anathema against last names. They frankly might have refused to call her anything but 'Lady Lucrezia' until she caved. Unrepentant cheerfulness was, oddly enough, quite a force to be reckoned with._

_~oOo~~oOo~_

No… He didn't want to see them just yet. He wasn't ready for the judgment he would face over his time in Cambyses, not when it would still be just as raw in their minds as his own. In a few more weeks, maybe a couple months, they would have had enough time to form opinions and move on, and he would… face whatever standpoint they had settled on at that point.

Hopefully by then, he'd have worked out his own opinion as well. That would go a long way towards… towards _everything_, really. For now, though… he probably needed a little more time, and to seek out the sisters who either wouldn't ask or wouldn't judge. It had been rash to simply approach the geographical closest; it was frankly just as well that she hadn't been home.

Hollee… Camille. Tricia, once he was settled enough in himself; she wouldn't abide weakness in him, for all that she would not hold him to any of the things he had done in the past. And above all, Tamelia… If Tamelia could accept him, then he doubted anything else could truly threaten his self-worth. And seeing as Tamelia had accepted the horrors he had committed with Wing Zero, then surely she could come to terms with what had happened in the desert.

According to the news, there were more like his squadron than he had hoped to believe, though none organized. They were being painted as victims…

…They had been, hadn't they? They had been a horrible number of other things too, but… if they could be victims…

That would make life so much simpler. He wasn't going to think about it until public opinion became a little clearer on it; he didn't trust his own instincts on the matter without at least some backing, and it didn't help that his emotions were entirely contradictory on the subject.

So for now, he was going to seek out his old sources, see what was still intact, what was left of Instructor H's network, and make his way out to see Tamelia. Seeing as even a direct trip took almost two weeks from his home colony, his timetable should work out more or less the way he wanted anyhow.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 13****th**** 198 –Monday – Near Erfurt, Germany**

The situation, admittedly… could have gone considerably better. Lucrezia grit her teeth as she calculated exactly how much ammo she had on her… and wished, again, that she hadn't left the shotgun in the trunk. The terrain was shit for a firefight, there just wasn't enough good cover… and there was no way either she or Xu could get to Hilde without some decent cover fire.

Her phone vibrated and she considered for a moment before making a damn wish and fishing it out of her shirt. She wasn't in immediate danger, and if anyone could have had better timing…

She grinned and double-tapped the text to call the number.

"Lu?"

"See that building to the east? Do me a favor and get up there fast with some heavy artillery."

"There's still a key in the undercarriage?"

"Yep." She loved how he didn't waste time; she could hear him dropping to the ground to reach under her little sedan for the thing.

"Anything in particular you'd recommend?"

"Mm, whatever you're comfortable with. You'll want a full auto and something with a scope."

There was a long moment of silence before she heard a _thunk_ that was probably the trunk shutting. "Got it. Locations?"

"Hold on." She hit mute and flicked her radio earpiece off manual. "Give me an update, people."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

The next time they went to visit any damn friends of Schbeiker's, Xu decided, he was bringing grenades.

"You're covered, go," muttered Noin's voice in his ear.

He flung himself into the open as he heard a spray of automatic fire start, tuning out the noise as he focused on the decrepit building Hilde was being held in and ran as fast as he could. They hadn't gotten the full story on what the fuck went wrong yet, but he honestly didn't care about the details just now. All he needed to know was pretty obvious: they were hostile, and his partner _really_ needed him about five minutes ago. She wasn't dead, her conversation was volatile as hell, and she was including all their danger words and phrases in her speech patterns like there was no tomorrow.

Schbeiker might be a psychotic bitch, but she was still his partner.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

Hilde let out a shuddering breath as she slammed a heel into the man's hand and sent his gun skittering off to one side. Noin was coming out of the shadows gun still at the ready, eyes analyzing everything. "She's secure," she muttered after a moment. Hilde ignored the oddity of hearing the woman's voice both actively and deep in one ear. "Clear the rest of the building, Chang." She tapped the earpiece in her left ear twice as her eyes flicked clinically over Hilde. "Are you injured?"

"Only enough to hurt," she grumbled, biting back the urge to screech over the whole damn situation. This was _her_ contact, damn it…

"You followed all the right cues," her general told her as she swept the room. "You didn't do anything wrong, so don't beat yourself up about it. You can't see everything coming." She shook her head as she finished and holstered her gun. "They knew what they were doing, and played it just right, is all." She tapped at the earpiece in her right ear. "We're good. Handle any stragglers we flush out." Another tap, and then a double tap at the other ear. "Chang, do _not_ exit the building without my say so unless you want a bullet to the head."

Hilde frowned as Xu acknowledged the order. "Ma'am?" The second earpiece was the one that linked up with her _cell phone_.

"Later, Schbeiker," the older woman dismissed. "Help me clear this area."

"I've got nothing," Xu's voice muttered in their ear after a minute. "Clear."

"We're downstairs," came Noin's dual-tone voice. "Come help sort through their crap, huh?"

"Roger."

They all froze as the sound of a shot from a high-powered rifle practically reverberated through the building.

"Ma'am?" Xu demanded.

"Nothing to worry about, Chang. Come on down; just don't go outside."

Between the three of them, they confirmed that everyone was either dead or had vacated the premises pretty quickly, and Hilde turned to see what had been left behind in terms of information while Xutao dug around for weaponry. Noin tapped her right earpiece again. "You all clear out there?" She paused, listening – and ignoring both her and Xu's eyes watching her – before nodding a little to herself. "Sounds good to me. See you in a minute."

"Who's our backup?" Hilde demanded as she disconnected the line and pulled all the tech off her ears. She knew for a _fact_ that no one else had been anywhere nearby; she'd had a solid ten minutes to consider and trash any ideas about getting help in the shitstorm she'd lead them into.

Xu answered before Noin, though. "Odin, probably."

"You're a good kid, Xu," Noin informed him happily as she knelt next to one of the bodies on the floor and began rifling through his pockets. "Right in one; he texted when he found the car and heard gunfire." She sucked in a breath. "Hilde, please tell me you don't recognize this one…"

"I didn't recognize almost _any_ of them," Hilde snapped. "Just one guy, and he was their damn gofer, not the people I usually talk to." By the time she'd realized these _weren't_ the people she'd been talking to for almost a year now, it'd been way too late to get back out of the building unless she wanted to do it full of holes. "Why?"

"This was a sting," the general explained, tossing a badge at her… a goddamn Regime military ID. _Shit._

She'd never been so glad she played by Noin's rules on what you did and didn't let your sources know, instead of what she wanted to do. If they'd survived the raid the Regime must have run on them some point before this, they wouldn't be able to tell anyone much.

A door opened a ways away. "Noin?"

"Over here!"

"I want this gun," he called back

The general laughed. "If you're talking about the rifle, then it's a definite _no_. That's one of my favorite pieces."

"Makes sense." He came into the room shaking his head and considering the weapon. "I haven't had anything this nice since I was…" he frowned. "Seven or eight."

Noin snorted as she stood and took it from him, even as Hilde's brain got stuck on an eight-year-old having access to a military grade sniper rifle. "Mine. And I'm not going to bother going into how messed up that sounded."

"My father had an unorthodox priority set," the man explained easily, cheerfully, even, as he turned to consider her and Xu… and she froze.

The blonde hair was a little disconcerting, but his face really hadn't changed much at all. "_Heero_?"

He raised both brows, lips twitching into a smirk. "_Hilde_?"

She flushed, but didn't bother trying to defend herself against the sarcastic response. Heero fuckin' Yuy was standing next to her…

"Odin, huh?" Xu asked quietly.

Again, his lips twitched. "Yeah. Shoe something, wasn't it?"

"Xu works," he noted, his slight lilt on the enunciation hint enough.

Heero just smirked at him. "You're still slow." Shifting the strip on his shoulder, he held up one of their better submachine guns. "Do you want me to hold onto this until we get back to the car?"

"If you would," Noin muttered distractedly as she went back to examining their attackers. "Look at their computers too, huh?"

Noin, of course, never had a problem with putting someone right to work. Heero didn't even bat an eye at it though; he just settled the gun's shoulder strap back onto his shoulder and moved for the desk Hilde was pawing through.

If she'd had any idea that _Heero_ of all people was going to come join them on their fun little field trip – the general's words, not her own – then she might have-

Odin. _Aw shit, seriously?_ No wonder the general had been laughing at her earlier.

"Where the hell did you get _Odin_ from?" she demanded.

"The usual place, I'd imagine," he answered in an absent monotone.

"What?"

Xutao snorted. "Yeah, ma'am, where'd _you_ get _Lucrezia_?"

The woman hummed out an amused noise. "I'd like to know what genius thought of Xutao, personally."

…Her ears were burning so hot they had to be bloody _crimson_ by now.

"It was my dad's name. Nice and boring," Xu pointed out happily. "I think my mom was too doped up to come up with something original. I wasn't even the oldest son."

"Is that what that means?" Odin asked curiously.

"Probably not, but it's one theory," Noin noted with a chuckle.

Hilde just grumbled under her breath and focused on what paperwork she could find. It was past time to bow out; she was only digging a deeper hole from here anyway.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Tivoli, Italy**

It was nice to be out of the house just as a regular person instead of as the princess. She generally didn't mind her position, really… but it was a breath of fresh air all the same. Jake had asked her if she could take the time to do this with him and she had told him to fit it into her schedule with priority. Especially after what had happened with David… whatever this was about, it was important to him, and might help level him back out. Dorothy had admitted that something serious had happened emotionally with him the night they went out, but beyond the fact that she was considering the implications, had left it at that. Relena hadn't pried – if Dorothy didn't want to tell you something, she wouldn't, and the princess trusted her friend's judgment.

And despite the incident the other day, she trusted Jake's too. She still wished she knew the full story, but she wasn't so naïve as to not recognize a lost temper for what it was. She'd blown her top with Milliardo just the other week, and while that hadn't gone so terribly, she was a far less… physical… person than her best friend.

Mai, Lin, and Vaughn had come along today, though they were only too happy to follow Jake's order of "get lost for a few hours" after they dropped them off in the main of the city. After hearing that the princess was going incognito for the day – or at least for a few hours – Major Marakesh had happily insisted the Relena wear her new jeans and a scoop neck t-shirt that left the necklace Jake had given her after their first trip to Munich visible for once. Relena, in turn, had simply let the older woman lead her along practically by the hand as she pulled her hair back into a low tail with clips for flyaways, then completed the ensemble with a newsboy cap. She had other clothes – nicer, more official-looking ones – in the car so they could get her back to work without leaving Italy first… But really, this was just simple enough to work, she suspected. She wondered briefly, if she could get away with this kind of thing more often, or if frequency would ruin the nature of the camouflage all by itself.

They had moved from the city center to the suburbs now, and were currently in a distinctly upper middle class neighborhood… stopping in front of a house no different from those of the last few blocks.

She had resolved to not ask questions or pester her friend, but not for the first time, she wondered exactly what it was that they were doing. Considering the house – debating the sheer normalcy of it – it took a moment to realize that the driver's side door had yet to open. She looked back to Jake and frowned in concern at the hundred-yard stare he was directing through her window.

Belatedly, she recalled her shock at Jack Miller's completely mundane nature, and reminded herself how really, it was the bizarre that her friend was at home with. Dangerous, odd, downright psychotic, and he would take it entirely in stride. Estranged fathers and people stable enough to live in an old family suburb like this? She resisted the urge to smile. _Terrifying._

"Jake?" she asked quietly, debating if she ought to suggest they simply leave. She doubted it would be well received – he could have come up with countless excuses to avoid this if he had wanted to, especially considering the fact that she _still_ had no idea what they were doing – but it would get him moving again.

He let out an explosive sigh and tossed her a smile that was somehow sardonic, disgruntled, but sheepish all at the same time. "I've been avoiding this for years," he admitted. Shaking his head and gesturing at the house, he added, "And Des has been letting me, but that doesn't make me not feel like an ass." He snorted. "And while the man has the patience and conviction of a _god_, he also has the humor of one."

Relena raised her brows. That… was an interesting description. She debated her words for a moment before settling on a dry, "You're afraid to go in because you might be teased?"

He made a disgusted noise and threw his door open, and Relena grinned before following suit. Almost immediately, she was hit with the smell of hot fresh bread, what could only be some sort of stew, and… peanut butter? She almost laughed at that mix, before deciding that if it smelled _this_ good, the cook must be making separate dishes… or if that somehow wasn't the case, it smelled wonderful enough to try anyhow.

Jake caught her expression and laughed as he locked the doors and gestured for her to follow him to the front door… which was open, oddly. "Looks like Cassie's playing gourmet again."

"I doubt there's much 'playing' involved," Relena argued primly, all too happy to follow her nose.

The colonel only grinned in response, grasping the doorknob to hold the open door still enough to knock on. "Just a minute!" a woman's voice called quickly. Then, a moment later, "Okay, you can come in now!"

Jake pushed the door open wide, and Relena caught a glimpse of soft yellow and pink as he stepped inside. She was confused for a moment as she followed, then saw another flash and realized that she was catching reflections in a series of mirrors in the décor… all leading in the direction of what she imagined was the kitchen. As she crossed the threshold, she blinked at the distinct click her shoes made on the floor – it was painted, but distinctly metal, as were the walls.

It was… nostalgic of the colonies, she supposed – it _looked_ like normal floor, so it couldn't be for the modern aesthetic.

"The loaves are done, but I got a later start than I planned, so the last batch of cookies is still in the oven, if you'll wait," announced a woman as she tended the stove, not looking back at them. Relena immediately recognized her vividly blonde hair as the yellow she had seen a glimpse of, and the pink straps of the apron tied around her explained the rest. She was petite… and amusingly, the polish on her toes matched her apron almost exactly. "The stew's okay enough," the woman went on. "But it'll be better if I give it another ten minutes to simmer."

Jake sighed in an exaggerated way. "Cassie, what's the point of the mirrors if you don't _check_ them?"

The woman – Cassie, evidently – snapped around so fast it was comical, then squealed delightedly at the sight of the colonel. Her eyes were a nearly luminescent jade green. "Jake! Oh my God! Um…" She fumbled for a moment as she tried to decide on where to set down the spoon she had been stirring with. "Homes Against Hunger ought to be here any minute to take this all down into town, but…" She finally just dropped her utensil on a random piece of counter and held her arms open for an embrace as she half-waddled towards Jake. "It's so good to see you!" She giggled as he pulled her into a hug and conspiratorially added, "I _told_ Des you'd be back before the third year was up!" When he only started to laugh weakly, she noted, "He was threatening to try to refinance the house just to catch your attention, at one point. I pointed out that it probably wouldn't work, though." She leaned up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek before pulling back, though she kept her hands resting on his elbows. "And look at me!" she beamed.

_It's a little hard not to,_ Relena thought, amused on some level. She hadn't seen it when she was turned away from them, but now that she wasn't, it was a few steps past obvious. Cassie was _very_ pregnant.

And barefoot. In the kitchen.

Jake was grinning back at his friend. "I see you finally managed to talk Des around."

She giggled and winked. "I think he really just wanted me to convince him, in the end."

Jake snorted, and Relena chuckled as his response mirrored her own thoughts. "I'm sure he didn't try that hard if you were _that_ determined. Did I miss the shower?"

"_Yes_!" she half-snarled in response, smacking him in the shoulder before settling her fists on her hips to glower up at him. "You did. See what happens when you avoid people for years on end?"

"Babies, evidently," he returned dryly, but with a faraway look. Relena could tell he was thinking about Addie back at the house, with her little Willam.

"That's right, _babies_!" Cassie crowed self-assuredly, cradling her round belly with pride. "I was going to say 'changes', but yes, babies." She patted at her stomach affectionately for emphasis.

Jake's eyes widened in alarm. "Wait, _plural_?"

She stuck her tongue out at him as she backed away and awkwardly spun on one heel, arms still wrapped around her middle as she scuttled back to the stove. "And wouldn't _you_ like to know," she snarked.

He was staring at her in something akin to horror now. "Cassie-"

The oven beeped. "Get those out, would you?"

Jake tossed Relena an exasperated look as he snatched a pair of oven mitts off the counter, and the princess could admit that really, she was hardly any help – she was only _just_ managing to grin like mad instead of laughing outright.

"On the cooling racks over there," the bossy mother-to-be ordered once Jake held a massive cookie sheet in each hand, gesturing towards where said racks were already laid out. He gave her an annoyed look for a moment – which she didn't deign to notice – before simply following orders.

Relena was debating if she ought to offer to make herself useful when a deep male voice called, "Cass?"

"Hold on!" She fished around her neck for a cord and pressed something down on the pendent. "Okay!"

There was something significant about that, but she didn't have time to piece it together before the newcomer made his way into the kitchen. "I thought I heard the oven go off."

Average height, mostly dark hair and fair skin; Relena would guess him to be of Mediterranean descent by the set of his eyes and overall facial structure. Her time with Jake had her instantly cataloguing how he favored his left leg, but in a comfortable way – old injury. He was well built, but the gray sprinkled through his black hair suggested more age than his muscle tone would indicate. He considered her for a moment too, and she saw recognition light in his dark blue eyes, but he only offered her a respectful nod instead of the usual histrionics. Pleasure flooded her as she returned the gesture, realizing that this must be the friend that they were here to see. There was something deeply soothing, calming, about his presence… something she felt she ought to recognize, but couldn't quite place.

"Jake took care of it," Cassie chirped happily, setting her spoon back down on the counter and moving to lean against the man Relena was now sure was her husband.

The man – Des? Was that short for something? – caressed his wife's hair, carding bright corkscrew curls through his fingers as she sighed and settled more of her weight against him. He frowned, focusing more deeply on her. "Are you tired?"

"A little," she admitted, closing her eyes.

"You should lay down, then," he decided easily. "You've been on your feet all morning."

"I'm not done yet," she whined unconvincingly.

He rolled his eyes even as he chuckled softly and twisted more of her curls through his fingers affectionately. "I'm hardly so helpless than I can't package food." He gave her a gentle shove. "Go." She did, but stuck out her tongue at him, to which he grinned and swatted at her behind, which made her squeal – with as much sheer amusement as indignation, Relena noted – before she scuttled out of the room. He laughed lowly and watched her go a little more appreciatively than was appropriate for company – _**Definitely**__ the father_ – before focusing back on them, Jake specifically. Casually leaning his bad side against the fridge and crossing his arms, he smirked. "You're late.

"Yes," Jake agreed as he tossed the hot mitts back on the counter. "Though you seem to have kept busy."

Des _cackled_, and something about his body language, the exact way he did it, hit Relena with crashing wave of clarity. That was exactly how Jake laughed when someone surprised him with a witty comment…

This was one who he had first learned to be honest with, to actually show true amusement around. He had modeled himself after this man, at some point in his life.

"_You_," the man pointed out with an almost evil grin, "never left an address for me to send an announcement to." Shifting his weight and gesturing a little whimsically, he added, "And communicating through Jack just seemed… tactless."

Jake sighed. "He's been around here, then?"

"Mm, on the vid more than in person, but yes." He tilted his head and offered a genuine smile. "It was good of you to invite him over for New Year's. It meant a lot to him."

Jake scrubbed nervously at his scalp, which startled Relena as much as Des's laughter. It was one of Jake's genuine gestures of severe embarrassment… not something she saw often from the man, and _never_ in relation to the subject of his father. "I'm… trying."

Des's smile widened even as he shook his head and stood up straight again, moving towards the blonde colonel. "That's the best anyone can do. He doesn't exactly make it easy, I know, but you _can_ be the bigger man in all this." He stopped just outside Jake's definition of personal space and tilted his head, arms crossed.

The pure knowledge the man displayed with his body language as well as the conversation matter, the emotional responses, resonated with Relena even as something else nagged at her. Jake clearly saw the man as family, and she appreciated the softening in atmosphere, especially after the stress of the past few weeks… but there was something besides that, that seemed more… personal? That edging of familiarity, even as she was sure that she had never met the man before.

Jake seemed to half collapse into himself, not meeting the other man's eyes. "I'm sorry."

Des sighed gently. "Well, you figured out on your own that you needed to quit running. That's better than someone making you, really, so we'll call it good."

"I… wanted to find her, first," the blonde admitted quietly.

Des raised one brow, arms crossed. "How'd that go?" he asked in a dry tone.

"Badly," Jake confessed.

"I could have told you that much would happen." He tilted his head. "Are you that set on feeling guilty, then?"

Jake finally met his eyes, half glowering, even as his lips tried to twitch into a smile. "Maybe."

"Stop it," the older man ordered stolidly.

"Trying."

"Stop trying and do it," the man returned almost flippantly, smirking and bouncing slightly on his toes.

Jake's expression was highly amused, even as his body language was a half-assed attempt at irritation. "You're awfully demanding, old man."

A title she had only ever heard him direct at Jack, this cemented even more just how much of a father figure Des was.

Des barked out another laugh, shifting his weight back onto his good side. "Not so old, boy. I've got a bona fide son making his way into the world in another two weeks; you're lucky you showed up before I finished replacing you."

Jake snorted. "Yeah, what happened to being too old for more kids, exactly?"

Des snorted right back. "You know damn well what happened, brat."

Jake absolutely _cackled_, finally fully relaxing. "You _did_ marry a twenty-something. It's your own fault."

"I'm going to go with something along the lines of 'love is blind, and children are beautiful,'" Des returned easily, taking a final step forward and pulling the colonel into a tight embrace. "It's good to see you, kid," he muttered after a moment. "It took you long enough, but I can't really say how glad I am that you showed up before Lyle made his way into the world."

"Lyle, huh?"

"Unless the ultrasounds are wrong, in which case Cassie wants to go with Madison, which is an absolute travesty that must be avoided," Des returned happily. "So it _has_ to be a boy." He snickered. "In any case, Cass wasn't overly impressed with my plans to show up on your doorstep with a newborn in hand if I couldn't find a better way to make you come to the christening, so it's good you took the initiative."

Jake laughed weakly, holding onto him tighter. "Shit, I missed you…"

"And me you, kid," the man returned warmly. "Stop being such a stranger. Godfather rights get revoked if you stay out of touch for more than six months without the excuse of being under deep cover, hear me?"

He dropped his forehead against Des's shoulder. "Yeah, loud and clear."

"Good. No more of this guilt bullshit, alright? You had nothing to do with it, and even if you did, I don't care, you didn't, alright?"

Jake laughed a bit more helplessly. "Got it."

"Great." Pulling away, he focused on Relena with a smile. "So, my apologies for forgoing an introduction, but I suspect he needed the pep talk."

Relena laughed and waved it off, moving forward to shake his hand. "No need for apologies; I happen to agree. You acknowledged me first in any case, which forgives any rudeness."

He winked at her as he took her hand. If anything, that soothing presence had only increased with the resolution of his discussion with Jake, and the hint of joviality only made it more familiar. "It's always good to know I managed to not offend royalty," he quipped.

She grinned as they shook properly. "It hardly needs saying, but – Relena Darlian-Peacecraft. Let's leave off the titles for now."

"As you please," he agreed easily. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Desiderio Noin, at your service."

Relena felt her stomach drop out of her as it finally clicked. _Noin._ The easy confidence, the deep set, relaxing amusement… his body language, aside from the limp, was nigh identical to Noin's… to his _daughter's_, because that could be the only relation, now that it had occurred to her.

He smiled knowingly, and her heart almost broke as she realized just how eerily _similar_ that smile was to another's. "Lucrezia always spoke the world of you; it's not too surprising that Jake would follow in her footsteps."

And she was still missing; Jake's reluctance suddenly made a lot more sense. "I'm sorry-"

"Ah, ah, none of that," he scolded resolutely, smiling even as he shook his head. "If anyone bears the right to any guilt, it's her poor judgment and other parties I don't care to mention by name in my house."

"No names?" Jake asked curiously.

"Oh, I have names enough, but they're not fit for polite company," Des dismissed easily, opening a drawer and pulling out a box of large sealable plastic bags. Relena snickered, and he grinned over his shoulder at her before asking, "You're helping me with this, right? Once we've got it ready to go, we can relax in the living room until you need to leave. Cass is probably hogging the couch with a book by now, but there's chairs enough for the rest of us."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Near Erfurt, Germany**

It had not, in the end, been a hard decision. Following Odin without him noticing had been thrilling and an awesome challenge too, and she was rather proud of herself. Her brother was on his way to becoming involved with Lucrezia, and it wasn't like she was jealous or worried or anything; Odin had good taste, and good judgment, even if he was totally hopeless about a lot of "normal" stuff. It was just… she was important to him, and she had decided she wasn't okay with being cut out of any part of his life that actually mattered to him. If that meant working with rebel stuff, then her mom could just deal with it; the rebels were doing the right thing anyhow. And Odin would respect her decision; he'd only kept her out of it because her mom had made him agree, and when Odin made a promise, he kept it. All the same though, this _was_ her decision, and going behind his back like this gave him plausible deniability if her mom wanted to get mad about it.

Odin had been making much bigger decisions way younger than she was now, and it wasn't like she was being stupid. She knew her bounds, and so did he; if he told her she needed to back down and hide, or run like a ninny, she wouldn't argue. Odin knew his stuff, and he'd always make sure she was as safe as was practical.

And really, she hadn't missed his uneasiness over the idea of shipping her across Europe to hang out with friends he didn't know so he could do what he had to do without her. She was safer _with_ him, _whatever_ he got up to, than on her own, and he knew it. He just followed orders when they were given by somebody he respected, and her mom had totally put an ultimatum on him about not involving her unless it was downright dire.

It was better for everybody if she went rogue just this once and solved the problem they were all dancing around. She couldn't stay in a nice little bubble forever, after all.

So she'd activated the tracker and recording program she'd already put through their linked phones, and kept tabs on him as she followed him up through Germany. When he'd obviously headed out for a gunfight, though, and it was pretty obvious they'd come back to the car, she'd decided to unlock the car and just hang out there until it was over with. It had been a bit now and she was bored, though, so when the car door opened without warning and a hand grabbed her shoulder hard, she was totally zoned out in the middle of a memory game she'd put on her phone.

For all that she hadn't been expecting it, Odin had made sure her body learned to counter before her mind had a chance to respond a long time ago. Relaxing her grip enough that her phone dropped from between her fingers, she wrapped her left arm around the one grabbing her, limiting her attacker's range of movement and strength, and gripped their jacket tight, using the leverage to slide in closer, fast. At the same time, she shook her right shoulder so the handle of the baton she kept in her coat sleeve slapped into her palm and shifted her weight forward to plant the heel of her boot hard on the upholstery even as she pulled her opponent out of their center of balance. She used the moment of disorientation to raise her right fist up to one ear, then slam it down on the other's right jugular as hard as she could manage both in pure strength and throwing her weight into it for momentum. As Odin had always told her would happen, the woman's eyes rolled up and Marlé didn't try to hold onto her as she collapsed bonelessly to the pavement.

It was only then that her brain caught up to what had just happened.

"Oh my God," she cried, falling forward on her hands to stare down at the woman on the ground and look up to see Odin and two strangers standing six meters away. She focused on her pseudo-brother, her stomach sinking down into her _toes_. "_Please_ tell me that wasn't Lucrezia!"

Odin's expression was entirely exasperated, while the man to his left looked like he couldn't make up his mind if he was shocked or about to die laughing. The woman to his right, however, only tilted her head to one side, _entirely_ amused. "Impressive," she noted in a husky tone, moving forward. "You must be Marlé."

"Um, yeah… Hi." She focused back down on the woman she'd knocked out guiltily. "Crap…" Looking back up at Odin, she did her best to look utterly miserable. It wasn't exactly hard; she had a pretty good idea of just how bad she'd screwed up. "She totally snuck up on me and just _grabbed_ me! I didn't think, I just-"

He still looked exasperated, but he waved a hand dismissively and cut her off. "I've been ingraining you with responsive techniques since we met, Marlé. It's… good to see such an innate response."

"You already knew it was good when _you_ scared me," she pouted.

"But you don't register me as a true threat, and I also know what you're capable of," he pointed out.

The woman who had confirmed her name let out a low chuckle as she knelt next to the one on the ground to check her vitals. "She underestimated you." Marlé blinked as she met her gaze and realized the woman's eyes were _purple_. Her body language was relaxed, amused… and something about that was just… calming. Almost familiar, actually.

_Didn't Mom have a friend with eyes like that when I was little?_ She'd have to ask… sometime after she got around to owning up to forcing a meeting with Odin's friends.

The woman stood and brushed off her hands, shaking her head. "She had every advantage; maybe this will finally teach the girl something. Xu, get her in the car and buckle her up, mm?"

The way she said that… was a _lot_ like Odin, actually. "You're her teacher?"

Her smile widened, but it was still subdued, if genuine… and she couldn't help but just _like_ her. "She's been my apprentice for over two years now, yes; her and Xutao."

Marlé frowned as she hopped out of the car so Xutao could move the… apprentice. It worked as a title, she supposed. Looking back to Odin, she asked, "Wasn't that the name of the guy you thought was Wufei?"

Xu stumbled as Odin confirmed, "That's him."

She nodded before focusing on the Asian guy and smiling brightly. "I almost met you a year ago, then, but I wasn't fast enough to keep up with the chase yet. I'm Marlé; it's nice to meet you."

"I like the 'yet'," the violet woman announced cheerfully.

Odin crossed his arms, smirking. "She's faster in a dead sprint than Xu. I doubt she could beat him in an obstacle course, but she can outrun me through an urban setting for a solid ten minutes."

"We haven't played tag like that in over a _month_, Odin," Marlé pointed out quickly. "I've gotten better!"

His smirk widened as the woman laughed delightedly… and Marlé realized something.

This lady was wearing the coat Odin had bought for 'a friend' back on L1.

Relief flooded her as she realized that this _awesome_ chick was Lucrezia, not the handsy one she'd knocked out… and she could definitely see why Odin liked her, if she was like this all the time. "You're cool," she decided.

Lucrezia smirked back at her, tilting her head. "Thank-you." Her eyes trailed back to Odin. "She's tagging along this time, then?"

Her brother shrugged. "Apparently."

Lucrezia pursed her lips and focused back on Marlé for a moment… before her eyes just _sparkled_. "You're not supposed to be here."

She liked how it wasn't either a question _or_ a reprimand. "My mom has issues she needs to get over, and Odin didn't want to piss her off." Shrugging a bit, she pointed out, "But she loves me, so she can't stay mad at _me_ for all that long… and it's not like he knew about it ahead of time, I totally tracked him, and he didn't catch me." She stood up straighter as pride swelled through her chest. "I think I get points for that."

Lucrezia only smiled. "I would have to agree."

"I like you," Marlé announced. Something about this lady just… resonated, or something.

"You already said that," Odin pointed out. "And I'm not telling your mother; you are."

"Whatever." She grinned. "I really wanted to see Sanc anyway."

"Sanc?" the woman asked Odin curiously.

"Among other places," he returned vaguely. Considering the car for a moment, he noted, "Don't sit next to Hilde."

She made a face at him. "I'm not _stupid_, Odin."

"I know," he returned simply, moving for the front seat as Xu got 'Hilde' strapped in. "But you're not invulnerable, and she's…" He paused to consider his words for a moment before deciding on, "volatile."

Xutao choked on his spit and started coughing. Lucrezia chuckled and opened the door to the driver's seat. "Apt as ever, Odin."

…Yeah, she could definitely get why Odin liked her.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Tivoli, Italy**

"How long can you stay?" Des asked, settling back in his chair with a drink in one hand. The charity group Cassie was a part of had come and left with the food while the woman had kept Relena out of sight by showing her the nursery – all done in greens and blues. The two had since been doing who knew what; Jake didn't particularly figure Lena to be the type to coo over baby stuff, but they'd evidently gotten distracted by something or other.

"Another forty minutes or so," Jake admitted with a sigh after considering his watch. "Sorry, but…"

"But you have a job, and a life, and, of course," he raised his glass for emphasis as his smile widened, "a cause. Cheers to that, by the way."

Jake shook his head. "Thanks, I guess."

"You've always had a talent for picking them," the older man pointed out cheerfully.

Before he could come up with any sort of response to that, the doorbell rang again. He frowned. "Did they forget anything?"

"Who knows," Des muttered as he stood and made his way back to the door, checking that the switch was off on the plate before stepping into the entryway. It should be, since they'd shut and locked the door, but… you didn't keep that kind of security and not constantly check it. _I need to make sure he knows Cassie didn't __**look**__ in the damn mirrors,_ he thought with a grimace. There was no _point_ in a security system if you disabled it before _checking_ who you were letting in.

Des was back in a moment, balancing an overly decorated box with a bright smile. "Delivery?" Jake asked curiously.

"Mm, my yearly proof that I'm still loved," the other returned while giving him an irritated look and dropping back into his chair.

Jake's lips twitched. "You needed proof?"

"It's usually appreciated." He was leaning over to set the box down on the table between them. "It's one of the more useful points of conversing with another person, you realize." He flicked the box open… right into Jake's face as he leaned forward to see what was in it.

The soldier snorted, flicking it back shut. "First of all, we already covered the fact that I have issues, _years_ ago… and _this_-" He tapped the lid shut again as Des flicked it into his face a second time, "doesn't seem very… wordy, anyhow."

"That's because all you young people are back on the kick of actions meaning more than words," Des told him, toying with the lid and apparently debating if he could get away with flicking it a third time. "Which is all well and good, but words _are_ appreciated too." He met his eyes. "You're supposed to at least say 'thank-you' when someone saves your house, you know."

Jake looked down, studying the lid for lack of anything else to focus on. "I didn't think it was worth the embarrassment."

His voice was dry. "Because my surrogate kid saving my ass was so much more mortifying than getting the old family manor foreclosed on would have been. Of course. It all makes perfect sense now. I finally understand why you've been avoiding me all these years."

Jake closed his eyes. "Des…"

"Boy, you paid my damn mortgage and left me no way to even send you a damn thank-you card. I'm not humiliated – I'm irate."

He sighed. "I told you, I wanted to-"

"Lucrezia made it clear to everyone years ago that she was no one's responsibility but her own," her father cut off. "If neither I or the Zeus wannabe have any claim on her, neither do you."

He laughed in spite of himself at that, looking back up to meet his eyes. "Seriously?"

"What's the point in bad puns if you have no one to share them with?"

He gave him a level look and deadpanned, "Ow."

His returning grin was broad. "Thank-you."

Jake rolled his eyes, flopping all the way back in his recliner. "Happy birthday, old man."

He snorted as he opened the box again and pulled something out. "I'm not _that_ old."

"Keep letting your pretty little wife tell you that."

"I will." Then he coughed out a laugh and tossed a little card in Jake's lap. "Hah!"

He frowned, picking it up.

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_Not __**too**__ old to be a Daddy, right? _

_ Happy birthday, and many wishes for the years ahead._

_~oOo~~oOo~_

A nice sentiment… but no one had signed it. The words were typescript… no doubt custom messages were a service from the bakery whose label was typed out on the box. "Cute," he agreed. "Who sent it?"

"It's never signed," Des admitted. "But it shows up like clockwork each year." He spun the box around so the opening faced the soldier. "Have one."

He was opening his mouth to ask why he was comfortable eating something from an anonymous person, but as soon as he saw the contents, the words died on his tongue. Neatly lined up, filling the box, were apple tart squares.

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_"What are you doing?" _

_ "Baking," Lu replied simply, continuing to pull stuff out of the fridge. _

_ Jake considered the tiny little kitchenette she was standing in. It was honestly little more than a sink and maybe two feet of counter next to a stove. "That sounds… painful." _

_ She hummed out an amused noise. "Well, it ought to be interesting, but I can make it work." _

_ He was tempted to ask __**how**__, but a more important question rose instead. "Why?" _

_ "Because the local bakery here doesn't make what I need." _

_ That… would make sense if she was talking about something other than baked goods, maybe. "Need?" _

_ She looked over her shoulder at him and laughed at his expression, shaking her head. "Yes. Here," she tossed a bag of apples at him. "Peel and dice those for me?" _

_ He caught the bag and debated for a moment, then just grabbed the roll of paper towels and pulled a knife before dropping to the floor. It was **Lu**, so… sure, why not. "What are you making?" _

_ "Apple bars."_

_~oOo~~oOo~_

"Lu," he whispered, staring at the things. Every year since he'd met her, she'd either bought of made these for her dad for his birthday… even when they'd been fourteen and crashing in some crap little motel room in a no-name town before meeting up with Des for a few days of vacation up north. It was just what she'd always done; said it was something her mom had always done for him and when the woman had grown sick she'd started taking it over…

…and she'd never stopped, apparently.

Des reached over to pick up another square and place it in Jake's hand, meeting his eyes and offering another smile. "You worry too much, boy."

…Shit, if he'd actually come and visited when he should have, he'd have had a damn proof of life for his friend _years_ ago. He groaned. "I'm a fucking moron…"

"Mm, only some days. Eat, before Cassie remembers where the stairs are and claims the rest in the name of Lyle."

He obediently took a bite. "Seriously? You used to hoard these things for a solid two weeks every year." He was generally lucky to get one or two.

"Lesson for a long life: never withhold sweets from a pregnant woman. Violence has a way of following if you do."

He snickered. "I can't really see Cassie violent."

"And I don't care to – Sylvia was more than enough. Cassandra can have anything her hormones desire."

Jake paused before just nodding a little to show he followed. Des didn't usually talk about his first wife unless prompted, so it wasn't exactly… familiar ground. Instead he picked up the card and reread it. "It sounds like she knows about her brother," he offered.

"I've been posting announcements on every sort of social network and news forum I can think for the past five months," Des told him dryly. "I'm practically shouting it from the mountaintops. You would have to be actively trying to ignore me to not know."

Jake grimaced, taking another bite of his square. "I guess I deserved that." He debated for a moment, then just got it out. "I saw her, last December."

"Your seven month turnaround in the face of proof is absolutely astounding, Jacob. I'm most impressed."

He rolled his eyes. "I was just coming to from almost dying, and had some of the most impressive narcotics I've ever had the excuse to try in my bloodstream. I convinced myself I probably hallucinated the whole thing." He tipped his head to one side, trying to sort out the details. "If I didn't, though… she grew her hair back out."

"Mm, good call; her Prince Genocide probably has no idea she could look feminine. He'll never recognize her."

"I think that was worse than the Zeus one," Jake noted wryly. "I didn't think that was possible."

"I have to air a few of the stupid ones that will haunt you before the princess comes back and I behave myself," he pointed out happily.

Jake groaned. "No… You really don't."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 14****th**** 198 – Tuesday – Skopje, Macedonia**

"Welcome to The Skyview, Miss."

_"Ah, bonjour!"_ the young woman greeted exuberantly, doing an impromptu half-curtsy with a bright smile. She was weighed down by bags; not of the traveling sort, but Neiman Marcus, Gucci, Dior, Prada, and the like. This was saying nothing of the full-length white fur coat, ten thousand dollar purse, or the dress that barely covered what it needed to. _Maybe it doesn't,_ Phillip debated as he tried not to stare. The coat probably covered any… _mishaps_ while still allowing her to show off ridiculously long legs. Long, _tanned_ legs that ended in the sort of overly complicated high-heeled shoes that rich women seemed to adore.

In other words, this was the sort of woman who didn't really care or notice how much money she tossed at something, which meant that so long as he played this right, it could be the tip of a lifetime. It ought to be one for the record board they kept in the back room, at any rate.

"How might I be of service, Mademoiselle?" he asked politely, offering a full bow in return to her little excited tilt. English was standard, but she'd already greeted him in French; it would either win him points or make no difference.

She giggled, shifting her weight, juggling her bags a little. "Eh, rooms, yes?"

"Of course. Do you have any particular preference, my lady?"

Her smile was appreciative. "I was told Stogovo. Is… _libre_?"

"Let me check for you." He tapped at the keys, entering his password and checking the vacancies. "Ah, yes, all fresh and ready for you just this morning. That's one of our most popular suites. You're a lucky lady!"

"Lucky!" she agreed in a happy but vacant way that suggested she didn't actually know the word. She shifted one hip forward, her purse resting on it, and suggested, "Card?"

…The way the zipper on that purse was, he'd have to brush up against her to open it. That was _asking_ for trouble.

She was frowning at him. "_Ca va, Monsieur?_" She actually jiggled her hips a bit so that the purse bounced a bit towards him… and the hemline of the dress wavered dangerously. He wasn't sure if he imagined seeing something lacy white or not.

Flushing brilliantly –_ harassment claims, great way to get fired, stay __**focused!**_ – he waved her off. She obviously had the money for the suite of rooms. "I'll take your payment after you have a chance to set your things down, Mademoiselle," he assured her. "After you see that you like your room, yes?"

"_D'accord!_" she agreed cheerfully, bouncing back to a more normal stance, and…

_Don't think about it,_ he ordered himself strictly. "Did you have any other luggage?" Come to think of it, it was strange that there wasn't a suitcase in tow.

Pretty gray-green eyes widened as she exclaimed, spinning in a way that he would have thought impossible in those silly shoes to stare at the door; Phillip tried to close his eyes against the flaring hem, but was pretty convinced now that the lace _wasn't_ his imagination. "The cab! He-"

"I'm sure the driver left your bag by the curb, Miss," he assured her. She didn't look any calmer about it – whether it was a lack of translation or belief was debatable – but as she shifted her bags around again and tried to untangle her ankles from their awkward position – _How __**was**__ that possible?_ – she almost tripped. Thankfully, he'd already stepped around the counter and managed to catch her before she crashed to the marble floor. "Careful there."

Her eyes were still wide with panic as she straightened herself. "_Mais, je ne peux pas-_"

"You stay right here, miss, where it's warm," he told her in an easy tone. He knew maybe three words of French, but tone of voice had a way of crossing the language barrier. He made a placating gesture at her as he released his hold on her arms, and gestured towards the front door of the lobby. "I'll go find them, okay? Daccor?" Mimicry helped on occasion too.

"Oh, _merci!_" She cried, practically as if he'd offered to save her kitten out of a river. "_Merci, Monsieur!_"

He offered her an easy smile and nod. "It's no trouble, Miss." He rushed for the door at a commanding sort of pace, eager to get out of view to try and regain some composure… and groaned at the _five_ large cases, all of a matching set, sitting on the curb. _Of course_. How she could have possibly forgotten about this much luggage was beyond him. Letting out a long breath, he pulled out his key for the little valet closet to one side, where he could get a cart to load the lady's things onto.

He didn't see the young blonde step gracefully around the side of his desk and seriously examine the screen for a moment, tapping quickly at the keys to review the recent information taken in for the Stogovo suite. He didn't see her pull a phone out of her coat and silently snap a few pictures. By the time he made it back inside, his screen was back at the setting he had left it at, and she was awkwardly trying to pick up a smaller shopping bag that she had dropped without putting any of the others down first.

It was times like this that Phillip was really glad their hotel only kept external cameras. As big of a tip as he might get for this, he was just as glad that none of his coworkers would ever be able to see him gape like a fish when a red satin piece of negligee fell to the floor while his guest turned almost upside down. They could never call him on stuttering and blushing like a virgin when she let out an aggravated noise and asked him to please pick it up for her… that no, not _that_ bag, put it _here_…

Maybe he wouldn't write up whatever tip he got on the record board in the break room. This was the least suave he would ever want to admit to being in ten lifetimes; he didn't want any questions.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

Priya snickered to herself as she tugged her phone back out of her pocket and tossed her coat on an armchair before going to flop on the couch. Some people were just so _easy_ to put off balance… poor boy. He had to be at least five years her senior, but really, he couldn't be anything _but_ a boy, with how easy he was to tug this way and that.

Shaking her head, she focused back on her cell, biting one lip. The fact that it had been a remote check-out meant she was dealing with a wider search radius than she'd like… but there was a boon of some extra information she hadn't expected, so she couldn't be too upset. It could make things easier…

…But how cautious was he being? Would a regular search on the name set off personal flags? It was a pity that she couldn't take the risk it wasn't so. No… too much was at stake to risk spooking him; she'd just have to go about it by more oblique routes, and see where she ended up.

_Ah, well._ Half the fun of a search was the ways you got sidetracked.

_oOo_

* * *

**_oOo_**

**_End Just Communication_**

**_oOo_**

* * *

** Thoughts? I know it's been practically forever… but I could honestly use a little encouragement if you care to spare it. Some days I'm at the hospital for my internship for more than thirteen hours a go, and I have class and something vaguely resembling life outside that… and a deep need to study far more than I'm currently managing. Graduation is this December, but I have a lot of work left before I get there. I'm not a stress level where I have to completely bury my very sense of self to prevent a collapse anymore, but… it's still rough, however much I adore this story. **

** I do have a rough outline for the next five or more chapters, but they keep… extending, for lack of a better word. This one was a solid 35 pages, and it's only half of an originally proposed chapter's material. So much of this is things that have been planned practically since the 10th chapter of Survival, so it's downright cathartic to get them out there… though again, as noted at the beginning of this chapter, I actually had this piece done by the end of December. I'm sorry for holding out on you guys, but I swear it was with the best of intentions; I never imagined it might take me so long to get going on the next part, and I had hoped to have a much shorter gap between this chapter and the following than I've been doing. I'm still going to make that a goal, but… it's just been sitting here too damn long already. **

* * *

** To everyone who has reviewed… Thank-you. I'd write this just because I would go insane if it stayed only in my head, but it goes much more slowly when I lack impetus, and feedback both teaches me more about writing, and gets me all wound up and excited so that the plotlines and characters jump out at me and I get so excited that I _have_ to write them out immediately. Lately, with how life has been, when I don't get that feedback nothing gets done, because I don't have the time to get completely wound up on my own; by the time I get to the brink, I realize I'm late on something that I _have_ to get done ASAP. **

** fan-to-fiction, since you didn't leave a means for m to talk to you more directly, I wanted to say thanks for the alternate viewpoint. I wouldn't change something like that because of complaints, rest assured; the only difference might be that I put more effort into developing the scenario. In the end of the day, criticisms are just another way to learn… *Grimaces* though now that I've now lived through a whole new degree of damning criticism in real life, I can't say I believe that good _always_ comes of it somehow. I handed myself over on a damn platter for being molded into my chosen profession, and that woman happily took her time breaking me… though I guess we'll see if, now that I've put myself back together, the fact that I'll likely never trust so deeply is a good thing. Maybe it is; I'll find out eventually, I imagine. I'm here, at any rate, and not worse for the wear in the end; I just… learned a fair bit about emotional strife and betrayal… which hey, ought to give me an edge with a lot of the characters I'm writing. Didn't care to be put through that but… well, done's done. I'm rambling, at any rate. **

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

** I've been debating exactly how Olivia and Dorothy would reconcile since before I introduced the girl; even I didn't expect the level of hilarity that turned out, though. **

** The space campaign should be pretty brutal in some ways, I think in fair part due to culture; the colonial population doesn't seem to have the same ideas about "honor" and "fair fight" as Zechs likes to believe in. Absolute guerilla tactics are going to be the norm, and it's going to drive our Prince rather crazy. **

** Jake's… Jake is making _Quatre_ look stable, right now. Odin has no respect for the idea of land ownership; I think he seriously just doesn't follow the concept of space not being a public commodity that anyone can claim for certain tasks for a degree of effort. I'm going to blame that one on how he grew up; his sense of belonging or stability is based on people and action, not on places. That has resulted in complete irreverence to the idea that a "place" can be property, instead of something you continuously maintain security on if you need to keep using it. **

** I honestly meant to show Relena cutting her teeth on politicians before this, and I've touched on it before, but only barely. That little party scene was beyond fun to write. **

** …It's really not a good week for Hilde. She honestly needs to get over herself, but I also don't see it ever happening. That ego's never going to pop, even when it _really_ ought to… **

** I've been working hard on developing Noin for some time now, and I've been trying to use the perspectives of those close to her as much as her own. The woman is often presented as being as bereft of family as the other main characters of Gundam Wing, but when I tried to look at her on a pure psychological and sociological level… she's frankly too healthy, too stable, to have lacked a solid home life. Her values system strongly reflects it, the same way Sally's does. If you look back, You'll see that Desiderio Noin has been referenced a handful of times throughout earlier Sedition, and that Lucrezia has mentioned Cassie at least once, but a frame of reference as to who they _were_ was never given until now. **

* * *

**oOo**

* * *

** Prior to posting this, I did a lot of editing and sort of clean-up of both Survival and Sedition.. especially since the site has now started trying to improve some of its compatibility problems. Most of the editing to Survival was done months ago, but I didn't get around to posting the changes until the other day, because I have to reformat each chapter once I upload it, and it's extremely tedious/time consuming. I've been extremely dissatisfied with how the scene breaks for _years_, and I finally figured out something that works well. From here on, it should be pretty standard. **


	10. Over the Edge

_**Over the Edge**_

* * *

"_Instead of swinging back and forth between individual points of truth, each piece we learn should build upon another to bring us closer to the full truth." – Amy Layne Litzelman_

* * *

_**oOo**_

**Hey guys. It's good to be back. Sorry as always about the delay, but if it's any consolation, this chapter turned out to be 44 pages long… over 20,000 words. It was also written in bursts; almost a third of it was written this weekend, and I figure that's a good sign for the future. My internship has gotten far more stable, and having a real schedule helps everything go smoother… as for the reason this wasn't out a month ago? **

** The short version is that I got sudden notice that I was moving across several state lines three weeks before the fact. And then I got to live off the good graces on various friends who would let me crash out their houses for another three weeks after that. It's been… insane. And that's putting it mildly. **

** Special thanks to my beta, The Big Fisch, both for keeping me motivated and trudging through this all before it was even vaguely organized into a timeline; the storyline on this one was pretty chaotic until the other day. Also a big thanks to violetXice, who has kept me focused on this over the past few weeks, because it probably wouldn't be done yet otherwise. **

** Enjoy, and seriously, feedback is, like, ambrosia.**

* * *

**World-building note:**

** I mentioned at some point in a previous author's note that based on the age range we see in the work force, I believe there's likely multiple tracks of speed that schooling can take in this universe, and that's why fifteen-year-olds like Relena and them can be in schools that say, focus completely on politics, or Zechs and Noin (at nineteen years old) show no signs of current schooling at all – Noin's even something of a professor. If they're as talented with the mobile suits as they are, that implies a strong base in physics at the least, which in turn requires a strong base in math… In the end, I'm just going to conclude that there's a school track that has you finishing high school level stuff before age fourteen. **

** Relena's school in canon, therefore, was more of a political science college, Noin's students were graduating their form of Associate's degree. Zechs went into the work force fully after obtaining his "Associate" and went forward based on talent/work experience. And Noin probably went forward in more school to some degree before becoming the "professor" she seems to be in early canon. It obviously doesn't translate directly, but in terms of prestige and practical know-how, that's the basis. Additionally, if you don't want to make your kid decide what they want to do with their lives at the tender age of thirteen, I imagine a more normal track is plenty common all the same; the schools the gundam pilots went into and out of throughout the canon could have been either of the above; I doubt they gave a damn, since the only one who ever did a "formal" version of school was Wufei. Overall, it's probably more common for the higher-class kids to be in the faster track because their parents are more likely to try plotting out their careers before they turn six.**

**oOo**

* * *

**oOo**

**July 15****th**** 198 – Wednesday – Munich, Germany – Saracennia**

"Book?"

"Yes, Lin, _book_," Mu replied sarcastically without looking up from the pages. "How very observant of you."

Lincoln rolled his eyes and flopped onto the couch next to the woman, shifting forward to try to read the title. "Are you sure it's not a weapon of mass destruction? _Or_," he paused for dramatic license, "a sandwich in disguise?"

She lowered the paperback then to give him a wry look. "Mostly."

"You should check that out."

"If I catch you trying to eat my stuff, you _die_, Lin."

"Why would I try to eat a book?" he demanded in mock offense.

The American woman groaned, dropping the thing in her lap. "Okay, fine, what do you want?"

Quickly, he snatched it up so he could read the back. "I wanted to know what it was about. You seemed focused enough on it." And it actually did sound pretty interesting, from the summary. Some sort of epic adventure fantasy, looked like. "Huh."

"If I start packing around torrid romance novels, will you still do this?" Mu asked in an amused tone.

"Depends on how hot the chick is," he returned flippantly, turning the novel over to consider the cover. "So is this any good, or are you still waiting for it to pick up?"

He hadn't gone overly out of his way to get close to Mu, really. She hadn't seemed all that interested, she hadn't struck out at him somehow, and the friendship didn't more or less slide into place on its own like it did with most the rest of the guard. It wasn't that he didn't like her; it just… didn't really happen. Sometimes, things just panned out that way. Normally, he'd have left it at that.

But Relena was… concerned.

So… he need to start building a premise for snooping into her life and, in particular, possessions.

Mu snatched the book back and swatted him with it.

It might be harder than he expected, especially if the princess' suspicions _did_ have any grounds.

"No, seriously, is it any good?" She was leaning back again to read and generally ignore him, and he was intent on making an opening to be a friend before he left her to it. He needed her attention, without getting so obnoxious that she spurned him…

_This would be so much easier if it was Mai._ But then, Mai wasn't suspected of any duplicity… and was already his friend, without any going out of his way. _Mai_ had been through Jake's rather harrowing selection process.

Mu Ackroyd hadn't. Knowing that alone made him curious enough to investigate, and then Lena had told him to look for anything off.

To delve for anything that seemed even _slightly_ off with _prejudice_.

And to keep it completely under their favorite colonel's nose.

In other words? Total challenge of a lifetime. Best option? Win the woman's friendship for real and just be a _really_ nosy friend. He was awful at minding his own business anyway; the best cover wasn't a cover at all, right?

He needed to keep his mind off that shit with Mitchell anyhow.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Vulkanus, Near L3**

"I agree that the situation is unfortunate," Treize soothed. "But it's hardly frantic. I have been aware of the possibility for… quite some time. Evidence has suggested such a shift for months now."

In a way, it was actually something of a relief. Váli hadn't been in any sort of real contact for nearly half a year, and it had been uncertain before that. This, frankly, resolved any doubts.

"This could be a good thing, really," he continued. "Try to consider the future possibilities." There were surprisingly few poor ones, really. "I respect that this may be difficult, but take a few steps back to remove yourself from the equation, and I suspect it will all resolve favorably with no further tampering." Glancing toward the timer he had started for this conversation, he grimaced. "I need to go. Have a little faith, friend."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 20****th**** 198 – Monday – Newport, Sanc – Palace Grounds**

"I should have guessed you had an ulterior motive." Despite the words, Noin sounded terribly amused.

"You knew I was looking for a way to tinker without an audience," Heero pointed out amiably.

"But I can't pass off the sinking impression that you tampered with the sprinkler system just so that the garden would need attention in the first place."

The gundam pilot shook his head. "It was purely opportunistic."

"And it gave you my permission to avoid your budding fan club."

He laughed. "Even you weren't going to watch my attempt at gardening."

Her General made an amused noise. "You're a colony boy; I figured the attempt would range somewhere between frustrating and hysterically sad."

For a guy Duo had always described as a socially stunted psychopath who somehow really meant well in the end, Heero never seemed to be _alone_ for Hilde to approach and talk to. The fact that Noin seemed to have a sweet spot for him didn't make it any easier.

"Hn. I'm not actually sure I'm from the colonies."

He didn't act _anything_ like she'd been told.

"The earthborn don't intuitively understand zero-g."

"And the spaceborn don't think of the ocean like water. Marlé's stunned by the concept of a beach, and she's always lived on strong biome colonies."

That… was probably a good argument. Earthborn who had lived in landlocked areas most of their lives often marveled at the ocean, but the things that caused that wonder in them – the pure, impossible, largely inaccessible expanse – made the spaceborn write it off as a smaller version of space, which was their norm. Most earthborn didn't pick up that it could be hard to think of a transition point between land and sea as any less dangerous than port docks were. The fact that they were entirely open and uncontrolled was… unnerving. It was silly, sure, but… that didn't make it _not_ one of those things.

"You still hadn't ever planted anything in your life."

"The mechanics weren't that hard to sort out."

"Why exactly do we need three people to dig up some rosebush he planted a data chip under?" Hilde finally demanded.

Heero tossed her a confused look. "We're breaking into a palace."

"An _abandoned_ palace," Hilde pointed out.

"An abandoned palace which stands as a memorial to the dictator's treasured childhood," Noin added dryly. "Which could be watched by any number of electronic means to maintain its sanctity. We're pretty sure we're blocking any signals to and from the area, but incase we missed a frequency or some other method of surveillance, it would be wise to have both warning before it finishes arriving, and back-up if necessary." Glancing around, she nodded. "As a matter of fact, this makes a good first vantage point. Stay here, keep a sharp eye, and check in regularly." Focusing back on Heero as she continued walking, she noted, "I imagine I'm more familiar with the grounds than you; I know a route that should give us more cover."

Hilde crossed her arms and considered for a moment before sighing and flicking her earpiece off manual mode, turning to consider the landscape. This was a stupid sort of tangle… Duo had said he wanted her to tell any other pilots about him if she met them, but _not_ to let anyone else find out. Adam hadn't really been Trowa, so she'd decided to not do that unless she got to talk to Duo again and he gave her the green light. But for all that it was usually rants or complaints, Duo had always talked the _most_ about Heero instead of any of the pilots, even though he'd really spent more time with and probably got on better with Quatre. In some twisted way, she suspected they might have been best friends through the war, if in a weird way; they like… clicked, or something. He would _want_ Heero to know… Hell, she was pretty sure he'd told her she could tell the other pilots where he was just so he could give her a way to tell Heero if he did the impossible of surviving again without admitting he was singling the guy out. He could be so stupid insecure about weird shit, sometimes… but that was just _Duo_.

At any rate, she needed to try tackling this a different way. It was getting more and more obvious that passive wasn't going to work.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Budapest, Hungary**

"Alright, thank-you so much!" Priya chirped as she hung up, before sighing and dropping back onto the bed she was seated on with an undignified flop. _Another dead end._ The trail, really, was starting to look frighteningly cold. She wasn't going to give up until she had followed every vaguely _possible_ lead, but… She was pretty sure he'd either stopped using traceable accounts entirely – going the cash and anonymity route – or picked up a different identity. Either was… entirely possible.

If her next few ideas all failed, she was going to have to look into tracking whoever he had met here. A total of four guests had been listed as staying in the Skyview's Stogovo suite, but only two names: Katriel Dimardin and Odin Lowe. There were a couple of possible reasons the others hadn't been listed but… without further evidence, it was just too varied to draw conclusions from. Associates that weren't the contact point, minors, hookers, random homeless person they filled in to lead a false trail…

If you got creative, almost anything was possible.

People tended to get creative at the least expected times; better to just pre-empt it.

It didn't make her not want to scream about the difficulty of it all, just the same.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 21****st**** 198 – Tuesday – Munich, Germany – Sarracenia**

"Well I don't know about that, _but_ if he's _really_ gone and done it, then how _should_ she take it?"

"Whether or not he's guilty has nothing to do with it! There's reputation to consider, and a show _must_ be made of it if she intends to keep any respect whatsoever."

"Point, but there's cost, and in the end of the day…"

Relena tuned the young noblewomen out; she really didn't care about who was sleeping with who and what it meant on the social scene, just now. She had orders to sign off, inventories to consider, politicians to maneuver, atmospheres to twist, and at least five less inches of breathing room than she would like to do it all in.

So naturally, Dorothy and Olivia were gossiping and painting their nails in her office. She was starting to wonder if it might have been better if they remained at each other's throats.

Daniella bustled into the room a moment later, a notebook in hand. "Okay, I've got it sorted now. Lord Kalvalage can-"

Relena waved her to come closer and show her as the younger girl continued explaining, and let out something of a sigh of relief at the organized structure of what was apparently a hand drawn agenda. Jake had announced that his previous methods – fine tip colored pens and all – was going to have to be tossed due to the complicated nature of having suddenly gained her position as Minister of Foreign Affairs. He'd been keeping two separate books for a while, and frankly, it was a wonder that nothing crucial had been missed in the back and forth. And he was willing to admit, in the face of spending far too much time juggling little black books, that they probably needed an _actual_ personal assistant at this point.

Enter the Fonne sisters, again. She hadn't gotten a terribly clear impression of _which_ of the two was going to fulfill the role of maid versus assistant, as they kept tag-teaming any effort they put in, but if one or both of them had made sense of the mess that her life was escalating into, she had no complaints. _Delegation._ It wasn't a skill she had needed overly much before, but if she and Jake didn't _both_ figure it out thoroughly and quickly, something or other was bound to go terribly wrong.

She looked over the set-up in detail as Daniella regaled her with facts, and after a minute or two told her to both get a more long-term scratch version, and put it into a digital media. "Tell Hayden to get you a tablet, whatever you think will work best for this, one with phone capabilities," she added as she sent the girl off. "If he needs more parameters, consult the colonel." He and Hayden were the ones designing the new network, though on different levels; they'd know far better than her.

"Sit," Olivia announced, suddenly in front of her, guiding her by the shoulders to one of her couches and taking a nail file from the coffee table.

"I do _not_ have time for this," Relena didn't quite bark, making to stand.

Dorothy gently pushed her back down as Olivia took both her hands to consider. "Perspective is important. Dictate, if you must; I will write."

"I _need_ overseers I can trust for two dozen tasks," she snapped, narrowing her eyes at the blonde, choosing to ignore the redhead starting to shape her nails. "People I can trust to be competent, and not weave around me for personal profit."

"Do you have any notes on the locals of your project sites?"

"On the desk," she admitted. "I haven't gone through them yet, but that won't-"

"The nobles will be offended if they're excluded," Olivia interrupted.

"Yes," Relena agreed.

"Check and balance, then," the redhead announced. "Against a new class of favorites we need to determine. Judicious action at the first need for action against them, fair rewards elsewise."

Relena pursed her lips, then nodded. "The top tier of each area needs to be in Romefeller hands, if I'm to win them over." Trust… trust was the problem with delegation, and that was _impossible_, but there were ways around it…

"Consider making selections through the non-inheriting lines first," Olivia added. "French manicure?"

Relena blinked, then focused back on her hands briefly. "Yes."

"Those are the ones with the most to gain from loyalty to you. A number of them would love nothing more than to strike out independently and make their own mark on the age."

"So you mean they're in _your_ class," Dorothy pointed out not quite acidly.

"Therefore, I know them intimately," Olivia agreed smoothly. "Successes and failures, wants and dreams, status within their hierarchies, and consequently, exactly what pressure they could put on who to get what we want." She raised her elegantly shaped brows at the Heiress. "I'll leave you to wrangle the old crowd, while I cultivate the new." Focusing back on the princess' nails, she asked, "Tell me the required skill sets for each position."

"List the positions first," Dorothy argued, sitting down on Relena's other side with a notebook and pen so she would be able to see whatever was written. "So we don't risk a mix and match."

"Position and description of each," Olivia filled in. "Right, of course. We can determine skill sets from that."

...This probably counted as delegation too, on some level.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 22****nd**** – Wednesday – Navahrudak, Belarus**

_Definitely classrooms… Lockers? We totally should have had lockers._ Never mind that her textbooks had been on a digital pad and she wouldn't have had much to put in one. Plenty of kids were milling in and out of that building over there, though… Focusing on looking like she knew where she was going and was disinterested in talking to anybody, Marlé shifted the bag on her back, fiddled with her headphones, and headed that way.

Odin had made it clear that if someone figured out she wasn't _really_ a registered student, she'd have to _get_ registered for however long that took in the admin office, and go through a whole day of ninth grade as a consequence. This was a _test_… and she had _no_ desire to waste a whole day in _public school_ either. She'd heard Meagan brag to someone once that Marie's prep school was at the same level in seventh grade as most schools were in eleventh, and she _really_ didn't want to find out if her nanny had been exaggerating or telling the truth. Especially since she was pretty sure they were living on that colony in the first place _because_ Opal Thrush Preparatory Academy was there.

And this was her first real go at anything like spy stuff. If she messed up, with a stupid _school_, especially with Odin's stories of what he'd pulled off at high-end academies like hers, she would _die_ of embarrassment. The whole _point_ of sending her in was so they didn't have to wait until night to get the computer chip Odin had stashed here three years ago.

Working her way through the crowd, purposefully looking all focused on her cell phone, she eventually got inside, and stopped from letting out a sigh.

_Cafeteria._

Still, if she was a student here she'd have _known_ it was the cafeteria, so she made her way over to a vending machine no one was too focused on – it only had water – and reached into her pocket for some coins. She needed a reason to have come in… and it wasn't like she wouldn't drink the water.

"So I was like, 'Oh. My. God!' And he totally didn't even care, I swear, he was just standing there all-"

"That's kinda hot, though. I mean, it's all-"

"I can't believe I lost them! My dad's going to kill me!"

"Chill, man, like anyone cares if you got a B."

"Charlotte scored eight points higher, though!"

They were all… really _loud_. She wasn't sure if that was because they were a bunch of high schoolers or if she'd just gotten too used to Odin, though. It was this jumbled wall of suffocating _noise_ that was bothering her more than shooting without earplugs did.

"_So_ fine, man, you have no idea-"

"This smells wrong. Taste it and tell me if it's okay."

"_You_ do it, I'm not getting sick because you're a-"

Someone let out a high-pitched _squeal_ that made her ears ring. It was a happy sort of squeal, but…

_Amos puts up with this five days a week __**how**__?_

Collecting her water, she shouldered her way back out of the group – geeze, people in a _normal_ crowd _moved_ when you were making an effort to go by – and back into the courtyard area. That really only left one other building… and unfortunately it was the biggest. Internally, she sighed.

A buzzer went off, and different kids started heading to this or that part of the campus with more purpose.

Sighing aloud, she started jogging to the only building that could be the gymnasium, now. The longer this took, the more likely she was to get caught out and get _stuck_ here. Plenty of other people were heading the same way, so she stayed with them without really being _with_ them, or looking apart… this place was big enough that they wouldn't really notice that she was new. Well, that or they just didn't pay attention to stuff.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

"Why are we doing this again?"

"Because it gives her something to do," Noin pointed out all too cheerfully.

"She's going to get caught, so why bother?"

"…Have you ever _been_ to an intercity school like this?"

"_No_."

Xu snickered.

The General's voice was wry. "It's not exactly a military base; she's not going to get caught out unless she paints herself pink and tries to dance around the hallways in front of a teacher."

"…Is pink your favorite color?"

This time, Hilde snickered.

"I walked into that one, didn't I? No, it's really not. I appreciate the pony, but no more pink things, please."

"Aa. In any case, though, noise might be a factor. I'm not sure if it'll echo."

"Noise?"

"Well, I'm not worried about her gymnastic ability."

"…Noin, please tell me he's making a joke about having put it in a gymnasium."

"…What?"

"Don't get your hopes up."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

She felt like an idiot when she got inside and remembered that however big it was, it was still a _gym_, and almost all of the space was wide open and not someplace she could get lost in trying to figure out Odin's directions. The bleachers were the mechanized kind that folded flat against the wall, though, and all compressed right now… and the highest part was over two meters higher than she'd been figuring.

The chip she was after was in a patched hole he'd made behind the top tier, second section from the left. She _really_ hoped the understructure was expansive, so she'd have decent footholds, but she had the sinking feeling it wasn't.

…She knew she'd known better, but seriously, Odin never did _anything_ by halves.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Amsterdam**

_Sometimes,_ Melissa wondered idly as she considered how skillfully her husband was managing to juggle a toddler while rewiring the innards of a freezer, _I really want to know what I did in a past life to warrant such good luck. The bragging rights must really be something, if the reward's this good._ They weren't planning on kids for a long while, but seriously… watching him be all domestic made her want to crow victoriously at any nearby woman, never mind that there was no contest taking place.

Grinning and shaking her head, she slid back under the truck she was working on. Daddy was asleep upstairs, and Duo was more than game to attend to her father's needs if it came to it, but… Frankly, every moment she could get with him had become precious, after the bombing. He was recovering fine and all, but…

Melissa hadn't wanted so badly to _maim_ somebody since she'd killed Cal. Bombing a civilian building? Who got off on that? She was lucky she still _had_ a father; plenty of other people, she was sure, _didn't_ anymore.

It was a good thing she'd mostly stockpiled the money he'd sent them over the past couple years; his medical bill was steep, and that was even with him living in the Den and them handling any of the day to day, just taking him into the hospital for checks every four days. It was going to be _months_ before he was okay… she was just glad he was _conscious_, if not always all there. With Shov, wondering if he was even going to wake up had been the worst part.

Speaking of Shov, she'd believed in the princess before the riot, but after the woman had taken it upon herself to save a member of their family no matter the cost in return for Katrien helping to save her bodyguard… Relena Darlian-Peacecraft could declare herself Empress of California tomorrow and Liss would yell at anyone who laughed. That woman was going to fix the mess the world had gotten up to, and that was that. You had to have something to believe in, to be willing to fight for if it came down to the wire, and the princess had firmly nestled her way into the love of every single one of the Devils with Shov's life.

…Of course, it was also a good thing she wasn't likely to go declaring herself something insane. That would get… well, it wouldn't end well.

"Mama's home!" Karina sang as she trudged into the garage and made a beeline for her daughter.

"You're not my mother," Duo protested dryly. Melissa grinned, listening to Renee squeal delightedly as Rina presumably took her from her uncle and bounced her up to face level to rub noses with her, like she always did.

Rina blithely ignored the comment, continuing to talk in the overly sweet voice she used when her attention was on her daughter and everyone else was a distraction she only vaguely noticed. "Do you need me to take care of anything while I'm here?" She made a few kissy noises. "I brought some food from the pub. Yeah?" She giggled, her voice going even more cutesy. "Yes I did! Yes, yes! But _you_ can't have any of it. Nope!"

The baby continued to make happy noises anyway. For all that she'd made quick work of the art of crawling and was starting to even run a few steps, she didn't know any words yet, from what they could tell.

"Go see if Will wants any," Duo suggested.

"Alright! Let's go, huh baby? Uncle Will's probably hungry, and-"

Honestly, at a certain point, Melissa just had to tune out the babble. She was happy that Karina was enjoying being a mom, and constantly talking to the child was a good way to go about encouraging her language skills, but she didn't need to listen to Karina dictate every step they took up the stairs in exciting detail.

"How's that coming?" Duo asked after a moment.

"Alright." She debated for a moment. "Give me another half hour and I think I'll be good."

"Cool. I'm going to walk Rina home in a few, but then I'm going out for a while."

She frowned, then slid back out from under the engine to meet his eyes and determine how serious this was. Not too bad, she figured from his expression, but not innocent either. "Anything I can help with?"

He bit his lip for a moment, but shook his head. "You could, but I've got this, for now." Meeting her eyes, he added, "Later this week, though… maybe."

_Reconnaissance, then,_ she decided, nodding to show him she understood. The city was doing a damn fine job of going back to the pits, and he'd made it his personal mission to prevent that as much as was possible. The corruption within the militia hadn't gotten any worse since the uptake of spring, but it hadn't actually gotten any better than it had been in November either. The newness and civic pride had officially worn off by then, replaced by power and privilege. They still did more than the cops had been for years, but… Amsterdam was honestly run almost entirely by gang influence again.

That wasn't entirely a bad thing, really, with how the power shifts had happened. Most of the old gangs, like the Devils, were more interested in keeping things peaceable. The newer ones, formed mostly out of the new refugees, didn't understand the prosperity of the previous summer well enough to give a damn, which was potentially a problem, but they were still small, which meant they couldn't do much. So for now it was okay; but it was definitely a balance.

And it was a balance that no one but them seemed to be trying to maintain. Which meant it needed maintenance. And she need only look at how filthy her hands were right now to remind herself how messy 'maintenance' of any kind could get. It was only a matter of time before something would require a…forceful… approach.

"Just keep me in the loop," she returned agreeably. "Better over-prepped than under, all that."

"Always."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 24****th**** 198 – Friday – Bialowieza Forest, Poland**

Marlé couldn't seem to decide if she was awed or freaked out. "_In_ there?"

Odin supposed he could understand why. This part of the forest was swamp-like and had something of a foreboding air about it, and honestly, he was relatively sure that anything related to the word "swamp" didn't give a good impression. She'd been disbelieving of the height of the single Christmas tree up in L5, and this was an overgrown, primeval forest; from what he remembered, some of the trees further in would require five adults spreading their arms as far as possible to encircle the trunk. "Terrain varies," he noted to her pointedly. "You have cities down already."

Hilde made an irritated noise, stepping forward. "Don't push the kid if she's spooked, geeze. I'll come with you."

"I'm not scared!" Marlé protested. "I've just never been anywhere like this before!"

Hilde shrugged, beginning to enter the tree line proper. "It's fine. Really, not a big deal."

Odin frowned. Glancing back at Lucrezia, who was pursing her lips, before focusing back on Marlé with what he hoped was a meaningful look. She scowled and followed the dark-haired woman. "I'm not losing out just because I haven't done it before. There's got to be a first time for everything."

…He was almost tempted to let Hilde keep going on blindly and not let them know they were heading in the wrong direction. With how wild this old forest was, though, it struck him as a bad idea. Not everything that lived here was _small_. Shaking his head, he jogged to catch up while Lucrezia chuckled softly.

Hilde, meanwhile, seemed offended that Marlé had risen to the challenge, for some reason. Narrowing her eyes at him, she gestured deeper into the area. "Are you sure you can find anything in this shit? I can't even tell where we're going to _walk_."

"The ground, generally," he noted, looking around to settle his bearings. It had been a while, but… mm.

"_Where_?" Hilde demanded.

_…That was a rhetorical question, right?_ He wasn't sure he wanted to answer even if it wasn't. Instead, he just started walking. She'd either figure it out, or not.

After a moment, Marlé made a happy sort of noise. "I can't see my feet! Awesome!"

"That's not a good thing," Hilde retorted.

He glanced down and supposed he could understand the argument on some level; the greenery was dense but still flexible, so he couldn't see his lower calf or beyond. _Was that what she meant?_ But…

"You really don't get over stuff, do you?" Marlé asked suddenly. "That like… explains a lot."

"Are you seriously lecturing me?"

"Just… let it go, huh? Ease off. Enjoy the… trees."

A splash; one of them had stepped into marshier ground.

"And the tree water," Marlé added.

"Swamp," Odin corrected.

"Right, enjoy the swamp water. You don't see this stuff every day, yeah?" A few moments later, the younger girl had caught up to him and hopped onto a fallen tree to walk along. "Okay, that could've gone way better," she muttered for his ears alone.

"The word swamp has poor connotations," he admitted.

She smiled up at the canopy above her. "It's actually pretty cool, though. Weird, but cool. How would you climb these things?"

"When we get to my spot, there should be a few examples to try on."

"No hints?"

"Like anything else, but scratchy." He considered. "And sticky."

"Huh."

He looked back over his shoulder to his other charge. "Are you okay?"

Hilde gave him a rather irritated look, but just sighed. "Yeah, just… waterlogged. How far is it?"

"Just up over there," he assured her, focusing back on Marlé as a different thought occurred to him. "Check for inhabitants before you climb."

"Like… birds?"

"And cats."

"Cats?" This from Hilde.

"Fairly big cats," he explained, holding out his arms to show the rough size.

"…Did you read this somewhere?" There was a new edge to Hilde's tone.

"No."

"What do they look like?" Marlé asked happily, examining their surroundings more closely.

"Yellow-brown, black spots, long ears." He frowned. "White… goatee."

"Neat."

"You just admitted there are large, wild _cats_ living in the trees, and you invited her to climb them?" the brunette demanded scathingly.

He frowned, glancing back at her. "She's making enough noise that she's not going to surprise one."

"So it'll be _ready_?"

Finally he stopped and turned to face her. "Have you ever spent time in the wilderness?" At the short twitch of her head to indicate no, he sighed. "Animals don't like people. They don't come near you unless they can't avoid it. Cats only _live_ in trees in jungles, and are _nocturnal_ everywhere." He shook his head and turned back around; he could see the thicket he'd buried the chip near. "And they take a bullet about as well as anything else."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Bern, Switzerland**

"This will cripple my business," Platt argued incredulously, waving about the newly minted financial policy.

Relena offered him a sweet smile, the one that reminded people of the fact that she was barely eighteen, and Mailin forced herself to stay stoic. She was relatively sure she was out of the CEO's immediate line of sight, but it was a good practice to keep all the same. "Cripple?" she asked, all bright-eyed concern. "How might it accomplish that, sir?"

Platt smiled back, seeming to think he could charm the young woman. "It's a matter of cost and effect, Minister. If you push these 'guidelines' of yours through, then I'm afraid I would be unable to maintain my people's salaries, or I would have to resort to subpar supplies-"

"Oh, that reminds me, I'd almost forgotten!" Relena interrupted cheerfully. "Your corporation's audit begins tomorrow. They're necessary for everyone, now, and since I was already over here, it the timing seemed to be of greater convenience for all involved. You see, I've come across so much unscrupulous trade in just the short time since my promotion that I feel it's necessary for those who have held to their morals to be rewarded."

He seemed to stutter at that. "Rewarded?"

"With unparalleled renown for gentlemen such as yourselves, along with a government resources to account for your new investments," she explained easily.

Platt frowned. "My apologies if I'm being forward, Lady Peacecraft, but exactly where would such resources be coming from? The Regime is still young, and-"

"It's Darlian-Peacecraft, Mr. Platt," Relena corrected firmly. "But as for the assets I mentioned, why, naturally any additional resources will be secured from those businesses who will be forcibly disbanded for fraud, embezzlement, false advertising, and other offenses of power. All goods and skilled labor will be appropriately consolidated, and if expansion becomes a viable option for those still trading, a stipend will be provided to help stimulate growth." She frowned as if thinking. "Though I do wonder how subpar supplies might be an issue in the business of banking." The bright smile came back. "No matter, though, I'm sure it will all become clear once I've read through your annual reports." Tossing her hair slightly, the princess added, "In any case, the policy has already been through the Circle of Ministers my brother left in power during his absence, and passed into legislature two days ago. I'm afraid there's nothing malleable or transient about this new bill."

The man seemed at a loss for words, and knowing what she did, Mai couldn't really blame him. Relena had resolved to go after the more corrupt international organizations first, and had had little trouble in convincing her fellow Ministers that she had her brother's full approval. Her history of successes thus far in the field of economics helped too, but a casual offer to discuss the matter with Milliardo Peacecraft over video conference over dinner went a long way towards turning the lackeys of the more capricious Peacecraft to the younger's will. The fact that there was nothing quite like good will between the prince and princess was very far from common knowledge, and she had decided that she had no issues with manipulating that perception to her own benefit. As she had put it "they'll believe it no matter what I do, in any case."

The innocent until proven ruthless tactic that Relena had picked up for her more recent dealings with Romefeller family members was also priceless.

"So you see," Relena continued in a more neutral tone, "I have no plans to 'cripple' anyone. Either you will be exalted, or you will face absolute destruction." Her smile was meaningful. "And I am not in the habit of making idle threats, sir. Therefore, I will leave you to your affairs for now, and tomorrow morning, my men and accountants will begin their work. I suggest you tie up any loose ends, lest your friends find any of your indiscretions… pervasive. I am not so heartless as to disregard negotiations, but not everyone cares to be so generous." Her smile, then was, bright and startlingly genuine. "Do we understand each other?"

"…Of course. Yes, of course, Lady P- Lady Darlian-Peacecraft."

"Excellent. I'm sure we'll have occasion to speak again later."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Space – Between L1 and L4**

There was one thing, really, that was singularly _wrong_ with warfare in space.

If you weren't near the main traffic lines, you were invisible.

It made the area poor for both offense and defense. You couldn't reliably see troops coming, you couldn't reliably know what you were walking into… The only ones who really reaped any benefits out of the natural backdrop were those employing guerilla tactics. After all, there was a reason the colonies had decided to use _gundams_ as their absolute tactic. In space, it wasn't that strange of an idea that five incredibly superior mobile suits could conquer. And they had, at least initially, done a decent job of proving the tactic on Earth.

"Shut it down," Vitorie Winner ordered after a moment, standing at the heart of the circuitry of the way station. When the markers on the main trade routes went dark, commerce would rely on the old star mapping methods, and be fine, if hassled. The Regime troops tended to rely on an autopilot more often than not, though, and might not realize that they were spinning off on decoys right away... and once they did work it out, they probably wouldn't be sure which way was what for a spell. If they were lucky, a few platoons would be outright lost. At a minimum, it would take them a lot longer to navigate to the next colony cluster than it should.

Turning on her flashlight as the lights died, she whistled sharply. "Let's get moving, gentlemen, we have another three stations before we're done with this cycle."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 26****th**** 198 – Sunday – Frankfurt, Germany**

Hilde pulled off her helmet and gratefully gulped in fresh air, ignoring how her sweaty bangs were sticking to her forehead. That had been… a little close. Fun as hell, but still just too damn narrow of a margin for comfort. Vaguely, she noticed that Heero was sliding effortlessly from his place behind her, but the fact that he obviously wasn't as stiff as she felt – _Bum leg my __**ass**_– was only a distant irritation. He'd just been a passenger to have to account for. Sure, he'd handled some of their pursuers with some well-placed shots, but that didn't make her feel like she'd gone through any less of a wringer with her life as her sole prize. She didn't even care if they'd gotten the information they'd needed, at least not yet. _I'm never stealing from a mafia again._

Okay, so she knew that was a lie. She'd totally do it again. But for the next five minutes, at least, she seriously meant it.

She looked down at the bike admiringly. It was probably the nicest bike she'd ever stolen – not from the mafia, just something that had been unbelievably handy. _Damn_ fine performance. It was too bad she couldn't keep it, both because she had no way to transport it other than driving it, and because it, you know, belonged to somebody. He'd get it back through the local police enforcement, militia if nothing else, if she left it here. She'd make an anonymous call once she had put some distance down, just incase. The owner had to be pretty cool, considering what a beautiful machine it was.

"That was nicely done," Heero muttered as he started wiping the bike down.

Hilde frowned, suspicion spiking as she twisted to look over her shoulder at him. "What?"

Those very deep blue eyes met hers, his expression becoming put upon. _Patronizing_. "That was some good driving. Thank-you." He gestured towards her ass. "Move."

She rolled her eyes. _Oh my fucking God, what, did playing backseat cramp his style that bad or something? I did good enough; I got us back out of there, didn't I? He didn't have to shoot __**that**__ many people…_

Or had he? She hadn't really been paying attention at the time.

Swinging off the bike and trying to not show how much her damn thighs ached, she couldn't help but snark, "But of course, I'm sure you could have done better."

Those eyes flicked back towards hers, incredulous. "Have you ever seen me ride?"

She frowned, realizing she hadn't. "No."

"Have you ever even _heard_ of me driving a motorcycle?"

"No."

"Then how do you even know if I _can_?"

She gaped at him. Her heart might even have stuttered. "You _can't_?"

And then, he just looked annoyed. "The point is that you don't know."

_Asshole._ He'd just been winding her up. Again. "So you're just fucking with me, even though I was right." He didn't bother answering, just focusing on cleaning off anywhere they might have left prints or DNA, which was answer enough. _Couldn't even muster a comeback._ "Oh, so now you're just going to ignore me, because I won?" she demanded.

"Hn." He didn't look up as he moved to the handlebars. "Has anyone ever told you that you have an abrasive personality?"

She snorted. "Seriously?" That, coming from _him_? Unbelievable.

"Or that you're highly insecure?"

She scowled; in all honesty, people'd always been quick to tell her she was an arrogant bitch, so yeah, not really. "No."

"That's one thing solved, then."

"Excuse me?!" She couldn't help falling into an aggressive stance; it was instinct.

The fact that she did it, though, meant that that was right when Noin and the others pulled up with the car. "Are you two fighting?" the general asked in a bored tone.

"No!" Hilde snapped, forcing her muscles to relax even as she could feel a blush creeping up her face.

Marlé threw open the back door before Noin had come all the way to a stop and scooted back to the middle of the back seat, smiling excitedly up at her. _As if __**that**__ makes being crammed in the back seat like a little kid any better._ She didn't bother smiling back as she ducked in and slammed the door shut. This was _not_ her fucking day. Or _month_, while she was at it.

"Apparently," Heero muttered in that irritating monotone as he moved for the car, "Telling her she drives as well as Trowa is an insult."

_…What?_

"You know, I'm not sure that it's too great of a rubric," Noin drawled. "You guys _trashed_ that bike."

He started to snicker as he slid into the passenger seat. "But it made such an impressive launch pad."

Noin snorted as she put the car back in gear. "I'm not saying it didn't."

"…It _was_ decidedly unusable afterwards."

"Exactly."

"…It didn't crash until after we were off it."

"Always a good thing."

_So was he bullshitting me or not?_ Hilde debated as she pulled her seatbelt across her chest. _Maybe he actually meant it… It wasn't as if there was anyone else there to save face for or- _

_**Fuck!**_

She'd been alone with Heero Yuy, actually talking with him, and she hadn't told him about Duo. Just three damn words, 'Duo's in Amsterdam', and she would have been good. No, just _two_, 'Duo's alive'.

_…Fuck._ What a fucking day.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 29****th**** 198 – Wednesday – L3**

_This is always how it starts,_ Cathy thought jadedly as she fought to not glower at the soldiers. _Strangers, then uniforms, then guns and bombs… next thing you know it's another revolution._ As far as she could tell, nothing had ever changed for all of it, but try telling _them_ that. Didn't matter if you'd seen at least three of their "revolutions" fail; people kept trying.

She could never figure out if the hot feeling in her chest over that was just anger, or part pride. After Trowa… well, that got a lot harder to tell apart. He was one of those people who refused to get all beaten down about it, no matter what happened to him. You just couldn't help but like him a little for that, after everything he'd been through.

…Even if it was a little pride, though, that didn't make her not angry about it. It didn't matter if she'd managed to get Trowa, little Triton, back. Her parents were still dead because of war, and Trowa was hardly the man Triton would have become, if they hadn't lost him in that air raid. Him not remembering it all just made it worse; she got to _imagine_ what had happened to him to turn him into that heartless clown she'd met in 195.

"Sorry for the intrusion, Miss," a soldier offered politely as she glared at him. "We'll be along soon enough."

"After you take our _supplies_, I bet," she returned sourly. "You make a _handsome_ highway robber at least, I'll give you that."

"_Catherine_!" hissed the manager, aghast.

He usually was, but really, he knew better than expect her to behave for these people. He'd have hid her away in the caravan if he'd thought it would do any real damage. It wasn't like she'd ever _not_ been mouthy.

"We'll pay for the supplies," the soldier argued earnestly. "We're not robbing anyone."

"Oh yeah?" She looked him up and down, worrying at the inside of her mouth, trying to decide if he was half as honest as he looked. The sweet-looking ones were always the most trouble: just look at Trowa and his friends. This one was more brawn, though; she hadn't been making it up about the handsome.

She let a smirk cross her mouth, leaning forward with her hands on her hips, giving him a good look down the neck of her tank top. A little feminine persuasion usually greased the gears a bit. "How much?"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**July 30****th**** 198 – Thursday – Dublin, Ireland – Trinity College Library**

"I don't know, I guess the past just strikes me as really important. It makes us who we are, right? Everybody that you really knew over the years… they're important."

"I can see that," Odin agreed quietly, moving casually into the entrance lobby of the old building. His earpiece was obvious enough that it wouldn't matter if someone noticed him talking to himself; they would assume it was for his phone, not a radio.

"You don't agree?"

If she sounded a little less petulant, he wouldn't have had any problems talking the theory over. He agreed with the basics, but hadn't bothered to really explore it yet. It was a valid topic for conversation. Over the past few weeks, however, Hilde seemed to be almost going out of her way to irritate him. She's try to get him to talk, then was annoyed no matter what he said. She challenged anything one of them said, with the same end results. Incessantly. And at this point, he was positive that she was actively following him.

The fact that Lucrezia and Xutao didn't seem to think her behavior unusual was… unhelpful. She evidently wanted to prove some point or other, but so long as he couldn't break his proximity to her, the urge to tell her to either say her piece in its entirety or _shut up_ was steadily rising. The only thing actually holding him back at this point was the sure fact that such a statement would have no noticeable effect whatsoever. Duo hadn't ever taken well to being told to be quiet, and he dreaded that giving her the same directive would have a similar effect of increasing the chatter in both mass and volume.

And this woman was starting to make him consider how similar she might be to Duo on amphetamines. The mood swings matched eerily well. He was willing to admit he didn't have a very broad social education, but he also didn't think he was overreaching with the comparison.

…He never wanted to see Duo on any breed of upper drug. He was fairly sure he never wanted to see Hilde ever again after this trip was done with.

He was also fairly sure it was somehow going to happen again anyway, and he should focus on acclimating. Duo's habits hadn't irritated him at all by the time they were both on _Peacemillion_… Maybe it would just… _Like Relena…_ No, Relena had changed over the course of that year, and continued on to become more like Lucrezia from what he could tell from the news feeds.

He was beginning to see a depressing trend in the women he came across, suggesting that this was a hormonal phase that could last several years before leveling back into sanity, and all indicators suggested Marlé was about to enter it. He was, at this point, desperately hoping he had too small of a sample size for the conclusion to be accurate. Marlé had been back to herself since she met Lucrezia…

This was something he might have asked Leia about, if Marlé hadn't closed that line of communication for the time being. He had promised he wouldn't lie to the woman when it regarded her daughter's welfare, and he had been serious about avoiding the thunderstorm that would erupt over the girl's introduction to his 'friends'. Unfortunately, he wouldn't say that Marlé's tactic – waiting to tell her until it was patently obvious no harm had come of the association – was a poor choice. In any case, if she was making her own decisions, he was going to let her make them, and she'd figure out how she handled repercussions through her own experiences.

"Heero?"

That was something else he was trying to work out. He honestly didn't care what she called him, Heero worked fine, but he was starting to think from the others' reactions to her use of it, that it was _meant_ to be another barb.

"Past experience builds us into who we are, yes, agreed," he returned before she could say something else _again_. "Relevancy?" He understood it was necessary for Hilde to be watching the surveillance net instead of Lucrezia because the younger woman needed to learn how to do it with some of her mentor's fluency while under her watch, but being used as an obstacle course was beginning to wear badly.

"Are you kidding me? What the hell do you mean, _relevancy_?"

He stopped walking, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The urge to just turn the radio off was becoming all too tempting.

Evidently, she caught the body language from one of the cameras. "What?" The tone was rather daring.

Clenching his jaw, he smoothly moved forward again. There were fewer students than he remembered from three years ago, but still more than enough to serve as camouflage. In his opinion, the habitability of Ireland was entirely questionable, considering the weather, but if they'd held out this long, he figured they deserved the place. Being stubborn about something could go a lot further for a cause than most people seemed to think. _Training,_ he reminded himself. _It's training. Just think of it as building tolerance._ In which case, he should probably have the damn conversation. "Explain how this discussion is relevant to the current situation," he suggested.

"You're blending in, right? You're dressed like these people, you're _walking_ like them, and if one of them tried to talk to you, you'd respond the right way. From what I know, you didn't bother with that practically at _all_ three years ago, so _why_ are you now? What happened to change what you can do, or at least what you _will_ do?"

He considered that, but he'd already figured that one out, at least, last year. "Duo proved that this way, on average, works better." He'd only bothered to start _using_ it because he didn't always have the physical capacity to always handle the side effects of a job more sloppily done on the social end, though. There had stopped being any room for discrepancies he could just brute force his way through if it came down to it; the value of Duo's ability to pass more or less unremarked, despite his very distinct braid, had become far more important, after he started to rebuild his life. Then there had been Dasha… No, Moira had been the first to pull at his interest for no practical reason; Dasha had been a venture into entirely new territory and only stood out in his mind for that reason. Then finding Marlé and the development of their relationship, the mutual give and take… That had been purely enjoyable, fulfilling, on a deeper level than he had experienced since Odin's death. Moira had been the first to start edging into that arena, but Marlé had made it… permanent. And he was far more happy, content, than he remembered being even as a young child because of it.

"I wish I'd recorded that statement for posterity," Hilde remarked. "I'm not sure Duo will believe you actually said that."

Duo had hardly been the start of it, though, just a more recent example. His father had worked as an assassin by the same tactics; it was counter-intuitive to see beyond an average, easygoing exterior, and he had always _known_ that… he just hadn't really _cared_ until recently. It had become important, though, and Duo's example had not only been more recent, but a more age-appropriate template.

"Anyway, chain of events, right? If you hadn't run into OZ literally as you were coming in atmo at the start of Operation Meteor, then you probably wouldn't have run into Relena outside of school, and Duo said you two first met _because_ you crash-landed in the ocean off Japan and he found your suit."

…If Zechs hadn't shown up when he did to fight, that day, he would have shot down the shuttle that was in his flight path, and Relena had been _on_ it. Honestly, that was probably the reason Zechs had been in the area; he'd always had a thing about protecting her from a far removed position. The impact of Relena's death on the timeline would have been dramatic in a likely negative way, but… That really didn't relate too much back to Duo. Considering what they were doing, if they hadn't come across each other when they did, it wouldn't have taken long before they met under different circumstances. He smirked. Actually, considering their first encounter, it was almost certain that they would have met under far _better_ circumstances than they had.

So, a poor example, but the idea was intriguing enough to play with. If he hadn't sustained such a severe injury during _Libra's_ fall, he likely would not have had to adapt his tactics in such severe ways. He would never have met the Sronas, and likely would never have caught Xutao's trail and mistaken it for Wufei's. It had been pure chance, being in exactly the right place at the right time, that had led him to Mariemaia, and even if that had still lined up for other reasons… He might not have noticed her, or stopped to help her, if he was as focused as he had been during the war. Therefore, the injury had been crucial to his current position and mental state.

But it also was far from the whole of it. When he had decided his current perspective was no longer going to be effective, he had fallen back on his father's old advice to follow his emotions, and let that guide him where it may. If that hadn't been prominent in his mind… _No, not relevant._ Every time in his life that he had been faced with situations he was unsure of how to approach, he had followed that ideal. He had agreed to being made a Gundam pilot because it had felt like a direction he could focus, in the sudden blank landscape life had become with Odin's death. He had found peace in himself by offering himself up as judgment to all the families of the pacifists he had killed at New Edwards. Doing that had just felt like the right thing to do, the only way to move on without the regret that had plunged Odin into depression and eaten him alive to the point that he had tried to abandon his son on L3-X18999. He had spoken so often of regret alongside the directive to follow his heart that the two had to be connected.

So much of his relationship with Marlé was modeled after his childhood… to the point that at this point in his life, it was tempting to say that almost everything about him was due to his father's influence. Then again, he imagined that was the usual way of it; parents were there _to_ shape and form you from infancy. Parents, or whoever filled in the role emotionally.

He took a moment to consider the book stacks on the second floor, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket to consult incase he had an unseen audience. The area he was entering was almost never consulted; it would be unusual for someone to either browse or know exactly how to navigate to find the reference he needed. Making an obvious show of reading signs and referencing the paper in hand, he continued more slowly. The concept of family, however natural it was to pick up, was… intricately bizarre. Solving its inner workings had seemed possible, at one point, but he was beginning to suspect that no one had a comprehensive answer.

_~oOo~~oOo~_

_ "I need to be back with my family again," Quatre announced, slumping in his chair and staring out the window. "I've been away for so long, I'm not really sure who I am anymore." _

_ "So that's where you're headed next?" Odin asked as he picked up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. _

_ His friend was quiet for a moment, but then shook his head. "I have my men to look after, and I need to revive my old network to do what they need of me. That comes first." _

_ "What do you need?" It sounded specific. _

_ "Forgery supplies," Quatre admitted in a bland tone, waving one hand in a dismissive gesture. "After everything in Cambyses, they need a way to move around legitimately." He focused back on Odin, gaze sharpening. "Would you be willing to handle the digital end of things? I've never been as good at that." _

_ Odin grinned as the idea of a trade occurred to him. "If you teach Marlé," he negotiated. His 'sister' had told him she was interested in learning before, but he lacked the training for physical papers – at least, the high quality kinds. _

_ "That shouldn't be a problem." Quatre relaxed further back into his chair and closed his eyes. "I need to go to space to start, but I'll need to come back to deliver them in any case." _

_ Odin thought briefly about offering to pick up that step, then dismissed it; Quatre wanted to handle it personally, or he would have asked. "Marlé could come to you in space, if that's easier." _

_ He opened his eyes and considered for a long moment, then shook his head. "I won't have to do anything too creative to get back through customs when I come back to Earth if I only have the supplies, compared to the finished product." He sighed. "It's just as well; I want to see my sisters, but I'm not actually comfortable with the idea either." Letting out a broken chuckle, he added, "So this gives me the opportunity to run a little longer." _

_ Odin frowned. "You want to see them, but you're running from them." _

_ Quatre laughed. "I'm running from __**reality**__," he clarified. "When I face it, I'm going to have to acknowledge what I've done, who I've become… and how far short I fall of their expectations." He met Odin's eyes. "It's something of a double-edged blade. What they think will either lift me up or tear me to tatters, and I haven't decided if I'm ready to hand myself over for judgment just yet. I have too much that relies on me right now to risk letting justice take its due course."_

_~oOo~~oOo~_

He could understand the weight of that responsibility. He had taken advantage of his 'death' after he self-destructed Wing to try and balance the scales; no one took up their concerns with the dead. Giving himself over to the families of the pacifists had seemed not only logical, but innately right on a level he hadn't felt for years. But… Quatre cared for the opinion of his family and those he was close to first. Marlé, similarly, couldn't care less what anyone outside her inner circle thought. And Odin… Odin couldn't have cared less about anyone but _him_, as far as he could remember. His father would not have cared, if he had seen the girl Marlé had been about to freeze on some anonymous street.

_If Odin was still alive, would I have gone to him, instead of the families of the people I killed?_

It was hard to say. If Odin hadn't died, then he probably would never have been recruited into Operation Meteor. He might never have tried to pilot MS at all. He…

He didn't know enough about his father to make an educated guess; he didn't even know how old the man had been. Would he have retired, by now? It had never been about money… Would they have joined the war effort in some way, then or now? Odin had always insisted that he wasn't actually his father… but he had never offered any sort of explanation either. Despite the degree of influence the man had had on him, on what choices he made and who he had become because of those decisions… He knew almost _nothing_ about the man.

That felt… wrong.

Turning down an aisle he knew no cameras covered, he grabbed one of the built-in ladders and pulled it along after him. The lack of knowledge had never bothered him before, but now that he'd acknowledged it… _Hn._

"Are you just ignoring me now?"

…She'd just kept on talking, hadn't she? He smirked as he found the right place and started to climb the ladder. _Oops._ "There's something to be said for being concise," he muttered into his earpiece, reaching for the book he wanted. "Have you gotten to the point yet?"

She spluttered, and he took a moment to be amused at his choice. The tomes surrounded him all concerned law, but in such a historic sense as to be useless. However, they hadn't been historic when written, and it was painstakingly legal in structure, as well as entirely obsolete. If anyone wanted to look up the details of British law concerning textile exports before the After Colony calendar, they were going to look at the digital renditions that were easier to search.

He continued to tune Hilde out as he flipped the book open and turned to around the four hundred page mark, where three years ago he had used a razor to slice a centimeter deep square into the center of the pages to house a computer chip. Quickly pocketing his prize, he closed the three-inch thick text and slid it back between its brothers on the shelf.

Time to move on.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Amsterdam**

"I'm not sure if that sounds awesome or awful," Amos muttered as he wandered into the room.

The volume was up loud enough that Duo could hear a feminine sort of giggle and agreement. _"Well, it's… Europe, but… …trees! …and then…"_

Because getting every fifth word of a conversation was just _that_ thrilling. Sighing rather pointedly, he tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him. How had Melissa talked him into doing this part, again? Spoken language was one thing, but writing…

Shit, he was pretty sure he'd slipped into German again. Or _was_ that how the Dutch spelled it? Wasn't it supposed to have those little… circle things above the o? _Why is it that I can read this so much easier than write it? _

_ Oh yeah, because G never cared about that._ He wasn't sure if he really wanted to own up to Melissa that he hadn't learned how to _read_, let alone, write, until he was eight or so, and that had only been in English. He'd started picking up bits of Japanese on his own before Father Maxwell took him in, but that was just because the engineers at the soldier's base he stole food from when he was younger had been from L1.

_…Was that h __**supposed**__ to look sorta Russian, or did I just get distracted again?_ He didn't think it was actually an h, the longer he looked at it… but he couldn't remember what it was _called_ either, just how to pronounce it.

"That sounds crazy."

_"I know! But… fun."_

He gripped the side of his head with one hand, staring at the page, seriously debating asking Amos if it was pure gibberish. _Maybe he can write it…_ Melissa had asked him to do this because she was busy, what with having two jobs, and she hadn't thought it was a big deal. He _really_ didn't _want_ it to be a big deal either.

"Well, no… but isn't that a little dangerous?"

Was that a pouting noise? Duo was pretty sure that was a pouting noise. _Focus,_ he told himself irritably, staring back at the paper and trying to convince himself it made sense. _…Shit._

"Who? Uh… okay. Bye." He looked up in time to see the boy pull the phone from his ear and stare at it, looking dismayed. "Who's Cory?" he muttered irritably.

Duo thought about asking for a moment, before deciding it was a bad idea. The younger teenager shook his head and wandered back out of the room as randomly as he'd come in, muttering to himself.

Duo sighed again, and started gathering his shit up. _Will. I'll ask Will for help, and if the wording's off because he's high, at least it'll be legible for Liss to fix._ God help him, but he'd get this _some_ semblance of done if it killed him.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany – Sarracenia**

"Hey, Jack."

His father hesitated on the other end of the like before asking, "Are you okay?"

Jake snorted, but couldn't really blame the man for the sentiment. "You're probably the _last_ person I'd call if I wasn't, you know."

"Well, yeah, but… Ah, hell. Hey, Jake. What have you been up to? You never call."

It was enough of a try for normalcy that he felt no hostility in reciprocating. "I've been really busy, honestly," he admitted, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, willing himself to _relax_. "I'm cramming so much politicking and statistics into my head it's coming out my ears. We went and saw Des and Cassie a couple of weeks back, though."

Jack, if his tone was anything to go by, began to relax too. "Yeah, he mentioned. He'd been waiting and waiting for you to come by. Didn't want me to say anything."

Jake blew out a breath, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "I probably would have blown up at you if you had. I've…" He sighed, and tried again. "I think when I'm upset about something, part of the way I cope is distorting my time concepts. I just… stop letting myself think about it, and the next thing I know, it's been a year since I talked to somebody." He ran his tongue over his teeth, then added, "I really only meant to put you off until I got my head straight, after everything that happened with _Libra_."

"…I'm not sure anybody can _ever_ get their head straight again after something like _Libra_," Jack muttered after a moment.

Jake made a face. "Yeah… I've been figuring that out. Anyway, I just realized, after seeing Des, that I've been letting the world pass me by while I focused on my personal shit, and… I'm not okay with that. I might have been, when I was younger, but now…" He shook his head. "There's just too much out there that I'm connected to for that to work anymore."

After running back into Adelia and Daniella had caused him to look into other old acquaintances, he hadn't been able to ignore just how _off_ his pacing seemed to be, these days. Maybe it was just the times, and his distance in peacetime had been perfectly acceptable, but after what Zechs had done, it was unlikely that that level of peace would return until he was old enough to have grandchildren. _If then._

"That's good. I mean, that you noticed, and…"

"Yeah," he agreed before the man could fumble his words more. "I guess it is."

Jack hesitated another long moment before apparently deciding to plunge on ahead. "That was always something I was worried about, you know? You never really seemed to attach."

"You mean I never really attached to the things you arbitrarily decided I ought to," Jake amended, not really feeling the heat in the words. He was too damn worn out to be upset; that was actually a large part of how he'd managed to work himself up to an apology in the first place.

"I was worried," Jack returned with exaggerated slowness, "Because Odin was never interested in making any roots. Those five years after your mother died, I don't think you lived in one place for more than two weeks."

"And I _still_ don't see why that particular fact is supposed to be relevant to my mental state," the colonel pointed out tiredly. "Seriously, Jack, it's been over a decade now. I'm pretty sure if I had some deep insecurity about where I sleep, it would have shown up by now. If anything, I'm _more_ confident about my surroundings than anyone I've ever come across. Do we have to do this right now?" He slumped in his seat and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "He raised Mom too, didn't he? He may have been unorthodox, but I think if he was as bad a parent as you make him out to be, you never would've had us."

This conversation was remarkably easier to have over the phone. He didn't have to restrain himself from backhanding the man for spouting bullshit like it was gospel truth while they were in separate countries, and that in turn made it a lot easier to stay calm. Contrary to what his father thought, he _did_ understand that some aspects of his childhood had been very fucked up. However, as he was now the sole survivor of said childhood, he hardly saw any point in incriminating the dead. His uncle had loved him absolutely, and he had never doubted that Odin had done the best he could imagine for his boys. It _really_ didn't have to be any more complicated than that.

"Your mother wasn't capable of accurately handling anti-aircraft artillery at _any_ point in her life, let alone before her eighth birthday," Jack argued. "But no, we _don't_ have to get into it. I'm getting to be a tired old man who's sick of the fact that his kid can't stand him. I'm trying to work on changing that. So really… how are you holding up? I never really thought you might get into politics, even after you crawled into bed with Khushrenada."

_You have no idea, old man,_ Jake thought idly as he tried to compose a response that wasn't a knee-jerk reaction to the insinuations, either crude – and entirely unintended, he was sure – or just insulting. Jack Miller, as a proud citizen of L1, had _never_ liked that his son had joined OZ, of all things. He'd been entirely convinced, for years, that Jake had only done it to piss him off.

That had been a fantastic perk, but really, at the time, it had just given him access to the resources he needed. That had changed over the years, and he'd accordingly kept what things he liked – the people – and moved on.

Jack had made the mistake at that point of declaring he was glad Jake was done with his rebellious teenager stage. He'd quickly dissuaded him of that fact – putting him in the hospital, if memory served – and proceeded disappear for a good eighteen months.

…He wasn't about to say that his subpar familial relations were any less than equally his fault. He probably ought to claim the lion share of the blame, if he were honest, but he wasn't in the mood, and something had to be said for the fact that despite repeat performances, Jack never backed down or tried different tactics. It said something for sheer _obstinacy_ that for the past fifteen years, he had refused to even meet his son halfway on any of their disputes, despite the consequences. If Jake had been less capable of just leaving him in the dust for long periods of time, the tactic might actually have worked; for all that he could be tenacious when he wanted to, Jake was more inclined to ditch a poor showing and move on than whittle away at it like a dog with a bone.

It was a quality he had come to reluctantly admire in the man, if he were honest. He was more a fan of having a finger in every pot, personally, but he could understand the merits of other approaches. Bullheadedness tended to rub him the wrong way, but… eh.

"You _do_ realize I got into politics when I was thirteen," he said after a long moment, "and that it had nothing to do with Treize? I've just never been flashy about it."

"Oh?" He sounded genuinely intrigued. Almost… happy, oddly.

"It's easier to get shit done when the opposition doesn't know there's a target _to_ shoot, let alone where it's at." Heero Yuy – the original, the politician, not the gundam pilot – had been a prime example of why being open with your enemies was a bad idea. Then a few years later, King Zachary Peacecraft had done an _excellent_ job in cementing the reality of that folly.

Thank _God_ Relena had grown into some common sense, instead of just running with what she'd inherited.

"Sounds interesting," Jack offered."

"Yeah, but the first rule of politics is that you don't kiss and tell." _Unless it brings entirely unprecedented advantage, of course._ "So the main issues I've been having lately are a mix of walking myself into being a personal assistant, which I've finally solved by foisting it onto someone else, and getting everyone I recruited trained up to acceptable levels. My men have potential, and some of them are doing great, but if I hadn't developed ethics somewhere along the way, I'd be tempted to regularly _beat_ one of them into submission. Well, that and the fact that it might destroy his spirit, which is counterproductive. I'm half considering letting him go, but he knows too much about our main premises for me to feel comfortable with that." He shook his head, considering the puzzle of Carlisle. "So I'm being forced to come up with a more creative behavioral modification regimen."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Finally, "You consider regular _beatings_ a behavioral modification therapy."

"It's a time-proven technique," Jake pointed out. "And it works relatively well for certain situations." _Like with Zechs._ "I have morals and stuff now that have led me to believe in actual responsibility for my subordinates, though, so it's kinda non-optional."

"…But it _is_ okay for other people?"

He sighed. "For the record, you know, you don't really fit into any of my categories for how I treat people."

"I don't?"

Hm, he actually _was_ in an honest mood. That was surprising. "It's the main reason you get under my skin so bad," he admitted. "Also, I don't have a different mindset for when I'm… soldiering, for lack of a better word. Acceptable degrees of violence is organized right next to who to be how friendly with; almost everyone has the potential to move into 'enemy' territory, and… yeah." When you worked in espionage, those lines could get dangerously blurry. He grimaced and rubbed at his eyes. _Fucking Mitchell._ He hadn't really _wanted_ to do that… but fuck, he _had_, and that was that. His hold on his temper hadn't been this bad since he was fourteen.

Thank God Relena could pull him out of a rage as easy as Lu had always been able to.

"Why the hell did I have to get your temper?" he half whined. "I do criminally stupid shit when I see red." It wasn't like he'd ever been exposed to temper in his younger years… he'd been too young to remember his parents fighting, and his uncle had been so impossible to ruffle it could make you want to tear your hair out.

Jack snorted. "Nature over nurture, I guess. Your mom… when she got going, it was like trying to stop a runaway train. Hell of a woman, your mother… didn't take shit from anybody."

"Except you."

"I seem to remember her tossing me out on my ass on more than one occasion," his father noted wryly. "Everything with us was either… hot or cold. Never much in between. She could be sentimental and vengeful at the same time in a downright terrifying way; your brother's a damn fine example of _that_."

…And the other half of why he'd convinced himself to call Jack was because he knew from experience that he wouldn't be able to _not_ think about Junior right now anyway. That and Jack was always willing to tell him stories about his mom…

Shit, he knew it was ridiculous, but he did _not_ like to hear Jack talk about Junior. Talking about Odin rubbed him the wrong way most of the time, but Jack talking about _his_ little brother was… _wrong_.

"You tore us apart, piece by piece, that year," he muttered, unable to stop. "We were a family, and when you ripped me away, it _broke_ him." He licked his lips. "Did it make you happy, to finally be able to hurt him back?"

"Jake…"

"He was never the same again, you know. I could barely get him to talk to me again, and every time, he was more and more locked up in his own head. I don't even want to think about what that did to Junior. But you get to act like it wasn't so bad, since you never had to see what happened to your _other_ kid because you were selfish. We'll never really know for sure, so you can just skate the blame, yeah?" He took another deep breath before just giving up. "Fuck, I can't do this. Don't call me back." Hanging up before the other man could get a word in edgewise, he dropped the phone and pulled his knees up to his chest so he could drop his head on them.

Sometimes, he could convince himself that he could forgive Jack. Logically, he understood that Jack couldn't really be held responsible for Odin's getting himself and Junior killed; four years between incidents was a hell of a long shot from cause to effect. But something deep in his uncle's mind had _shattered_ over that fucking custody battle, and… hell. He knew he was a psycho about this all sometimes, but… every August, it just felt _raw_.

His mom had died in August, after telling him to always take care of his brother. A stranger who insisted he was his _real_ father had taken him away from everything he'd known in August, five years later. Jack had _made_ him fail his mother that day… Then Odin had turned up dead and Junior gone without a trace almost exactly four years after that. The month was fucking _cursed_.

At this rate, everything with Lena would go up in flames this month too. It would have been a decade without anything too serious, if it didn't, and that was probably asking for too much. Shit, he'd fucking _attacked_ David three weeks ago. Maybe it had just started early this year, to make up for lost time.

Junior should've been turning nineteen next week.

…And now he was going to have to call Jack back to apologize _again_. Though that probably needed to wait another month or two if he didn't want it to just turn into _another_ fuck-up he had to apologize for.

Damn it all, but he fucking _missed_ David right now. He missed Lu so bad it hurt, but it was an old ache; Dave was fresh, and entirely his own fault.

And like every year, he missed Odin's steady presence more than anything.

He was so wrapped up in his misery he almost missed the sound of Relena coming downstairs. "Jake? Are you in here?"

For a brief moment, he considered not answering. Relena… He'd lost so much of what he loved about Relena in his tangle of loyalties, and yet she was always there, tantalizingly within reach but untouchable. He was going to _burn_… It was so _perfect_, but he'd handily designed his noose with every step he took towards her, and was closer to hanging himself with it by the day.

Could he live with himself if he just… chose? Gave in? Could _she_?

_Hard to say, and impossible to turn back from._

"Yeah, I'm here," he called back, standing up and shifting his shoji screens to leave his private area of her bedroom. Her blouse was a deep scarlet today, and fit her curved form nearly as well as the dark grey pencil skirt she'd donned that morning. _I should find her rubies for her ears,_ he couldn't help but think as he drank her in. "What's up?"

She gave him a faintly amused look. "Our resident noblewomen seem to have adopted Daniella. The three of them have retreated to Dorothy's for the day to do who knows what."

He raised his brows, allowing a smile to creep up his face as well. "She's probably enjoying that." The girl had honestly never gotten as much attention as she was due, growing up.

Relena just chuckled, shaking her head, as she moved to her vanity. "I've also been soundly lectured that Danny is a boy's name, and we're not to ever use it again in reference to her, so as not to further _flay_ her self esteem."

Jake snickered a bit at that; it sounded like Dorothy had been in a mood. "I suppose I'm guilty of that one. Do you know if they asked for her input before deciding this?"

"She was so starry-eyed over their interest that I doubt she would have minded if they had made it up on the spot, but apparently, it's something that's bothered her since she turned eleven. She just didn't have the nerve to bring it up." She tossed him a look over her shoulder as she began putting in simple diamond earrings. "So consider yourself warned. The two looked about ready to go on the warpath about it."

"A young woman's femininity is at stake," Jake returned mock solemnly. "It's very serious business."

She snickered, moving back for the staircase. "I suppose it is at that. Can I get your opinion on something before I send it over to Reconstruction?"

"I live to serve," he returned in a wry tone, trying to not focus overly hard on her backside as she moved into the next room. She was pleasantly oblivious to the hourglass she'd developed; at least, oblivious as to how much it affected him. Mailin gave him all sorts of amused looks over it, but appeared to be keeping mum, thankfully. "Be up in a moment."

Even Lu had never twisted him up in knots this bad, and she'd been more forbidden fruit than Relena was. He _knew_ the princess felt the same as he did… but he didn't want to be with someone he was _lying_ to. It would destroy them both. She should be able to walk away from this with a clean conscience, if it came down to it.

She deserved the chance to avoid a regret or two.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**August 4****th**** 198 – Monday – Chartres, France**

Being popular really fucking sucked. Well, _notorious_ was probably a better word for it, but shit, was it so much to be able to walk down the street without a strong likelihood of being recognized? How did celebrities survive? She was only a damn terrorist – according to the current regime, mind, not anyone else – and she wasn't even allowed in the fast food joint.

No, no, let's leave Hilde with the car. We don't want to risk any extra attention. _Unbelievable._ How was it that Mr. Blue-Eyes didn't have his picture posted everywhere, again? All Noin bloody needed was a skirt and dark set of contacts, and apparently nobody recognized her! _No fucking fair._ And she'd, like, been famous or something _before_ the war. Yanking on the lever at her side, she threw herself back in the passenger seat so it was nearly fat, and glared at the ceiling.

She was really starting to _despise_ this car. It was just one failure after another.

Adrenaline spiked as she heart a scuff right next to the vehicle, and she jumped halfway up in a spin before realizing it was Golden Boy himself staring in through the window. Purposefully, she flopped back down and raised her eyebrows.

_What? I'm __**staying with the car**__. You can't say I didn't do it right._

He just kept staring.

Finally, she sighed. What a stiff bastard. "What?"

He held up a paper bag with some cheesy logo stamped on it. "Aren't you hungry?"

Hilde blinked, sitting up at the idea because hey, greased food did sound pretty awesome, even if it _was_ mystery meat… and froze. He was alone. This was her chance.

A muscle in his jaw ticked, for all that his expression stayed about as clear as stone.

_This is it: Duo's alive._ "Du-"

Xutao literally threw himself into the back seat with an exasperated sigh. "Why is it always potatoes?"

Marlé followed him in with a shrug, munching on a fry. "They're easy."

"They're gross," Xu complained.

Heero raised an eyebrow at her, shifting impatiently. "Do what?"

Hilde floundered for a second, trying to recover, and let the first thing to come to mind pop out. "Do you _mind_?" she snarled.

_…God, my life sucks._

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Space**

_Space. Why did anyone ever think that coming up here would be a good idea?_ He didn't mean in the current sense, but rather, the original colonization. It was an inhospitable bleak wasteland, with tiny islands of refuge. And those islands were irresistibly vulnerable in so many ways… but also all too simple to make impossible to locate.

If the colonists had gotten this idea for defense even just twenty years ago, history might have gone rather differently. But then, the Alliance had been far too firmly entrenched for that tactic; it had only become viable when he had magnanimously given them free reign to handle their own affairs, in return for support with Earth. He was beginning to wonder if they even knew what the words 'fair' or 'chivalry' meant. Even _Heero_ had only ever been willing to meet him partway on those points; he always found a way to underdog his situation so he still escaped unscathed and able to say it had been the situation that determined the results, and not a matter of prowess. No one else from the colonies seemed to even bother with a mask of understanding on that point; they seemed entirely bemused when the subject of 'being fair' came up.

Grimacing at the outward display, Milliardo decided to retreat back to his quarters; they weren't going to get anywhere anytime soon. "Call me when you start making some progress on this mess." _Space. Just another junkyard._ Whoever had decided to create mass debris fields to shield trade routes deserved to be drawn and quartered. The sheer collateral was ridiculous. What had they even _used_, in any case? In space, everything was a precious resource.

Settling into his chair, he smiled slightly at the reports in his inbox. The colors of the opinion ranged widely depending on just who was writing, but together, it made an altogether poignant image:

Relena was blossoming.

Romefeller was scrambling to pick up the pieces every time she neatly pulled apart their plots at the seams, and most recently, her new border patrol program – which even he had been highly skeptical of – had borne worthy fruit to the public eye. Someone staffed in Croatia had uncovered an extensive bribe network that had turned out to be fostered by the McKlveens… and it had only gotten more scandalous from there. Somehow, evidently it had led to the discovery of two fourteen-year-old girls dressed in burlesque in a Senator's back room. The sheer sensationalism of the details gave the movement more momentum.

He clenched his jaw as he considered the poor repercussions, though. The McKvleens were not the most powerful family of Romefeller by far, but they were also far from the weakest, and whether or not they in particular sought out retribution, Relena had officially established herself as a threat to the Foundation, with this. He could say, from experience, that that had a tendency to not end well. Making waves like this meant making enemies, and there were only two ways through that particular storm: absolute, untouchable power, or having far more friends than enemies. Considering her tendency to simply _fling_ herself into danger without a second thought… It was enough to make him furious.

_Does she have any __**idea**__ what Pandora's box she's opened up for herself?_

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**August 6****th**** 198 – Wednesday – Sevilla, Spain**

"That's _so_ not appropriate."

Noin glanced up curiously, then looked in the direction Hilde was glowering. She'd asked Odin to handle the computers when they'd found this base unmanned – whether for a lunch break or for more serious reasons was unknown, so Xu was on the roof keeping a lookout. But when he'd sat down in front of them, Marlé had half hopped in his lap – carefully not putting any weight on his right leg, she noticed – and started on the keyboard before he could do anything. In response, he'd just sat back in his chair and watched her work intently. Noin hadn't thought too much of it; he wasn't exactly going anywhere, with them situated like that, and he'd catch Marlé's mistakes before she made them. Probable case in point: he was leaning forward now working the control alongside her, his broader shoulders framing hers.

It did, admittedly, look a little intimate, but not in an amorous way if you imagined the girl maybe two years younger, or him ten years older. From some of the comments he'd made over the past few months, combined with the conversations she'd managed to have with the girl… _Hm._ On the other hand, if Hilde was going to keep acting like she was jealous…

"You wanted to be in his lap?" she asked all too innocently, hopefully soft enough that the two at the computers wouldn't hear. Her student blushed bright red in response, but really… with the way she had been trying to corner him the past two weeks, it was starting to look viable. She would have thought Hilde past the typical 'I pulled your hair because I secretly like you' tactics of elementary school, but… well, you never knew.

If it weren't for the fact that the man was now making a subtle _study_ of shunning the woman, she'd be half tempted to encourage it just for entertainment's sake. Hilde was quite obviously driving him up the wall, though he was handling it better than anyone she'd met outside of Sally. She hadn't expected that, for all that she'd noted his newfound serenity back in Sudan. He brushed everything off like he didn't even notice – though, then again, maybe he didn't, entirely.

In any case, the more time she spent with him, the more she got the impression that the man could put up with a fairly fantastic amount of bullshit without losing it. She couldn't help but smile a little, watching him and the blonde girl quietly debate something back and forth before he gently batted her hands away and started typing. You could see, in the way they interacted, and even in his attempts to negotiate Hilde off her high horse without ripping into her pride – something she'd long given up as a pointless tactic – that he was an adept teacher.

He'd proven he could more than keep up with her skill-wise, he didn't take shit, was refreshingly straight-forward, and she was starting to think he actually had the patience of the god he was named after. _How did that go again? War, death, wisdom and… poetry?_ The Norse had had some amusing ideas about what their lead god ought to be in charge of. All the same though… the guy was impressive. And if he kept _focusing_ on her the way he was… She had no active interest in finding someone, especially considering how it had turned out the last time she'd pursued that line of thought, but she wasn't entirely opposed to the idea either. _Hm._

She should probably start trying to smooth Hilde's feathers before the woman imploded. Girl was a damn fine soldier, in terms of what she could _do_, but she had an attitude problem no one had really cared enough to try correcting. The problem, really, was that the more she was mouthing off, the better she seemed to perform.

It also made for fairly steady entertainment, in her opinion, but the performance levels were the real reason why she hadn't resorted to duct tape yet. Hilde was just… one of those people who talked her way through a problem. It was usually total nonsense coming out of her mouth, but it was part of her process, and frankly, they needed results more than discipline to pull off this revolution. If somebody could get the job done, they could be as quirky as they wanted, so long as they _did_ it.

"Really, why should you care?" Noin asked curiously. "He doesn't strike me as your type."

Never mind the fact that she knew Hilde was either being blind or grasping at straws to attack the man over. She'd caught Marlé staring in wide-eyed horror and confusion at the feminine products in a grocer's they ran into last week, and pretended to browse the details herself for a moment before the kid had taken a deep breath and asked for help. She was very nice and up front about it; no bravado, but no loss of pride either. Puberty was evidently a recent development, and it wouldn't be the first time she'd met a girl who looked fifteen or so that turned out to be _far_ younger.

In any case, she was a good kid, just as steady and no-nonsense as he was, but with more… flounce. Watching them interact, Lucrezia was beginning to suspect she'd been teaching him as much as the other way around; after the grocer's incident, she'd happily owned up to introducing him to _gummy bears_, of all things, as well as movie theaters and silly string.

Hilde was stubbornly refusing to answer, so Lucrezia just shook her head and decided to prove her point. "Hey, Marlé!" When the girl looked up, she asked, "When's your birthday?"

She brightened immediately. "I'll be thirteen next month!"

"Cool!" Lucrezia chirped back, making a mental note to find a trinket somewhere for the girl, before turning back to raise a brow at Hilde's gaping mouth.

"_Thirteen_?" she let out with a strangled voice.

"Twelve," Noin corrected bluntly. As much as she usually avoided the tactic, with some students, you just had to rub their nose in it before they'd get something. "Feel like an ass yet?" When Hilde just blushed harder, she shook her head. "You need to stop making assumptions, or sooner than later, you'll make a deadly one. In all reality, your first mistake about the girl _was_ deadly, she just has restraint." And considering the fact that she was _his_ student, that restraint was something Lucrezia was going to be eternally grateful for. She was pretty sure that the girl hadn't killed yet, which was good. That was probably going to change sooner than anyone liked, but that innocence deserved to be stretched as far as it could go.

"Whatever your issue is with him," Noin went on, "I would appreciate you resolving it." However implacable the man seemed to be, _everyone_ had a breaking point, and she had no desire to witness Odin snapping. Odin snapping at her apprentice could damn well be disastrous, because for all that Hilde could be an obnoxious shit when she got the notion in her head, she _was_ still under Noin's charge, and she suspected such a reaction might be violent. She only intended to have Hilde and Xu with them for a few more days, since this was their second to last recon point in their original plan before starting to carpool, but if whatever this was was allowed to fester…

Hilde could hold a hell of a grudge.

The woman in question scowled. "He just _bothers_ me," she mumbled. "I can't figure him out; every time I think I've got it, he turns my theories upside down."

_Ah._ "He does think in odd circles," she agreed. "But that doesn't mean you can treat him like a dog you're not too fond of." She was pretty sure he'd gotten enough of that shit while training for Operation Meteor. The way he'd reacted and planned during the war just… didn't leave a good impression for where his psyche had been purposefully led.

There were _reasons_ he seemed like almost a different person entirely from then, she had decided. And they were probably the kind of reasons that made her want to kill somebody, so she'd also decided to not ask.

She was pretty sure Hilde was holding back on why she'd been acting like she had, but she was her commanding officer and mentor, not her shrink; she didn't have to explain, she just had to take responsibility for her actions. "Let it go, have it out with him, or if you can't manage that, keep away from him," she ordered. "I don't care which you choose, but I'm almost to my limit on what I'll accept from you, understood? Direct _this_, whatever it is, elsewhere. You're digging yourself a hell of a hole, and not earning any sympathy for it."

Hilde swallowed. "Yes, Ma'am."

Noin nodded firmly in acceptance of that response and let it drop. _Just a few more days,_ she mused, _and I'll have them out of my hair for a bit._ Their tour was almost done, but she intended to help Odin finish picking up the Zero drives, at least in Europe. He'd asked if she could back him up in the Americas too, but had been sketchy about the timeline; she got the impression that he was waiting for something else to happen first. Hopefully that would work out; Sally had been so thrilled to learn the system was being put back together that Lucrezia had more wiggle room to work with, but that was really only in theory. She couldn't leave her people alone for _too_ long, but at the same time, Hilde could fly Heavyarms as if she'd been born in it. She lacked experience, but her raw talent for flying was fantastic.

_Now if only her people skills would improve._ Well, you couldn't have everything.

Her phone vibrated in a telltale pattern, and she considered her position for a moment before mentally shrugging and puling it out of her pocket. She had run out of things to actively do, after all, and was covered from all directions. _The wonders of delegation,_ she couldn't help but note in amusement, glancing back to see Marlé again at charge over the keyboard. The vibration pattern she'd felt was for social media updates, and she couldn't help but grin as she saw it was from Cassie: _'How do you serve an eviction to your uterus?!'_ Apparently, she hadn't realized that due dates were more suggestions than anything, especially since they hadn't started ultrasounds early enough to get the most accurate conception date.

She wished she could respond.

Cassie had always been a lively, humorous woman… that had been the main reason Lucrezia had introduced her to her father in the first place. He was always genuinely _happy_ with the little blonde. He'd never been the same after her mom died; not until she had started bringing Cassie around. They were good for each other. And for all that he had always adored her and denied any wish for more children, Lucrezia knew he would be _thrilled_ to have a son.

Shaking her head, she tucked her phone away again and tapped her earpiece on. "How are we looking out there, Chang?"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany – Dorothy's Townhouse**

"Wonder what's going on up there?" Alexis mused, staring at the muted news screen. It had been saying stuff about the colonies… but really, he wasn't buying it. Information broadcasting had to be one of the easiest things to distort… and more distance usually meant more interference, no matter the field.

"Same shit, nicer backdrop," B.J. decided, dropping onto the recliner with a cup. "Can't say it matters much for here, so I really don't give a damn. Never knew anyone who lived up there, even."

"I guess." It bugged him though, not knowing. "Zechs is up there, now… That can't be good for anybody."

"Gets him out of our hair." He grinned into his cup as he took a drink. "Gets him out of the princess's, and her little groupies. It should be interesting enough down here, I think."

Alexis nodded noncommittally. For all that Colonel Mitchell had moved them into a sort of safety net by hiring their resistance group on as Catalonia's house staff, not much about life had changed. The woman was rarely home, so they didn't even have to pretend, beyond keeping the house cleaner than they might have. Last he checked, he was the only one to have ever actually _met_ Relena. "Maybe I'll ask Nan to look into it." Nan either was already keeping track of it, or knew how to find out. Generally speaking, if it was digitized somewhere, Nan could get a hold of it.

"Just don't get him too distracted," B.J. muttered dismissively.

Nan also had long-term projects, the same as Lindsay and B.J.. "I won't," he agreed, standing up. He and Tristan tended to do more in the moment stuff, either as muscles or whatever odd-jobs needed doing, so times like this, when there wasn't a job actively going down, he ended up bored… but Nan probably wasn't. Technically, he was head of the household, because it left B.J. free to take care of other stuff… _I should probably make sure everything's clean._ For all that Dorothy rarely seemed to actively live in this place, there would be hell to pay if it wasn't ready for her when she _did_ show up.

On the other hand, Nan's room, in particular, was usually where things got out of hands in terms of mess.

Grinning, he made for the stairs.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany – Sarracenia**

"And…" Relena trailed off as she glanced outside across the grounds.

"Mm?" Jake asked, looking himself… and tilting his head. "Huh."

Mu blanched. "How much does he _weigh_?" she demanded.

"About as much as he looks like," Jake suggested. "Someone needs to tell that woman he's not a lapdog."

Relena couldn't help but start laughing at that, at least, combined with the image. Mailin was _carrying_ her dog across the grounds… her almost one hundred forty pound dog, the same way someone else might a baby. She didn't look like she was struggling, and the dog seemed perfectly happy with the situation.

"Remind me not to mess with that woman," Lieutenant Ackroyd muttered, shifting uncomfortably and rubbing at her arms in sympathy. "She's not even breaking a sweat."

_It __**does**__ solve the mystery of the magically disappearing dog, however,_ Relena decided. She'd never gotten around to asking the Major about that.

"I'm still lost on the _why_," Jake added after a moment. "But I can't say it's not good exercise."

"It's probably muddy," Relena pointed out. "Maybe she doesn't want to wash him again." She didn't entirely approve of a dog in the first place; a dirty dog was _utterly_ unacceptable.

_…How did she keep from dripping all over the floor, though? She had to have carried him down the stairs…_ Dear God, but the image of the dog wrapped in layers of towel as well as compliantly letting himself be packed about like a toy poodle made her want to giggle even more helplessly. Alternately, the idea of Mai cooing at her pet while plying him with a blow-dryer or three was even worse. The fact that the Australian woman had probably had to resort to both to leave the bathroom as nicely as she had a few weeks ago made her 'teleporting sheepdog' theory even more fantastic; the amount of effort it had to have taken must have been stunning.

"…Relena?"

She gasped for air, still trying to contain her giggles. "Just give me a minute," she protested. Next, Mai would start putting little blue bows in the foot-long dreadlocks that made up his coat… or maybe ribbon. As the images went on, however, her control entirely dissolved.

She really didn't think that hysterical laughter was inappropriate in the slightest.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**August 9****th**** – Saturday – Northeast Spain**

"Huh?" Marlé fumbled, startled as Odin tossed her the phone. "Oh! Um, hello?"

"Hello to you too." Quatre's voice was vaguely amused. "Did you still want to come visit for a lesson? Odin rather suggested you would."

"_Yes_!" she half squeaked, suddenly full-blown excited. "Where are you guys? I'll totally meet you."

"We're headed to Georgia; the one off the Black sea, not the Atlantic. Can you get there on your own?"

She frowned. "I can… but it might take me a few days. Is that okay, or do I need to figure out a plane?"

He seemed to consider for a moment. "Where are you now?"

"Um…" She tried to think of what city they were closest to for a moment, before giving up. "Spain."

"…You don't know, do you?"

"Not really," she admitted, shrugging when Odin looked back at her.

Quatre sighed. "Put him back on, please."

Obediently, she handed the phone back to her brother and dashed for her bag. Even though she was sure her stuff was packed together right, it was worth checking.

"What's up?" Xu asked curiously. They had settled into an abandoned house for the night, since they had gotten the Zero piece easier than Odin had expected, and he and Hilde were headed back to wherever they'd come from the next day anyhow.

"She navigates fine," Odin was muttering into the phone.

"Meeting up with some friends," she returned vaguely, rolling onto her belly to make sure nothing had rolled under the dresser/cabinet thing she'd spilled her duffel next to earlier. "I was starting to wonder if they were ever going to call, with how long they took."

"Daroca, maybe?" He was starting to frown. "Calatayud."

"Aragón," Lucrezia suggested helpfully. "I think we're technically closer to Zaragoza than either of those towns, but you can't go wrong with the province name."

Odin's shoulders were tightening into more of a slouch. "I really don't see why this is upsetting."

"Is that your mom, or something?" Xu ventured.

Marlé laughed at that. "No!"

"I don't think that will be very helpful," Odin continued. "Especially considering the terrain." He listened for a moment. "That was willing, though. Did you have a point, with this?" Another pause. "I don't like the possible aftermath. No."

That… was starting to sound a little ominous. "He's not threatening to ditch me somewhere with a canteen and see if I can make my way back to civilization, is he?"

His returning contemplative look was _not_ comforting. Her heart sank. "Isn't Georgia, like, _desert_?"

He waved a dismissive hand at her, pacing back to the far side of the little house.

…She was a lot _less_ excited, suddenly. "I just met trees for the first time, I'm not ready for wilderness training!" she protested. He was pacing back now, his own duffel over his arm. "Odin!"

"Stop panicking, that doesn't help anything," he lectured, holding the phone between his head and shoulder so he could open the top of his bag… and upend it on the floor next to her in one swift motion.

"Odin!" she squeaked, skittering back on instinct.

Rolling his eyes, he reached for hers and dumped it too. "Give us an hour, I'll call you back." Hitting the end button, he gave her a very level look. "You should pack."

Across the room, Hilde started to giggle uncontrollably.

Marlé eyed the pile dubiously. The urge to just jam half of it in his and half in hers haphazard was…

"No."

She glowered up at him. "Was there a _point_ to that, or is it just your time of the month?"

Hilde was laughing harder, now. Xu was beginning to look wild-eyed.

Odin, however, just smirked a little at her. "I thought you wanted the canteen."

_Oh crap._ The water bottle _had_ been in his bag… And her shorts, somehow, from the look of things… and when had he reclaimed the PlayPaq? "Oh."

He just shook his head a little. "Three piles: mine, yours, and shared. I need to map a route, and then I'll help." He started to move away. "And he's not _ditching_ you anywhere."

"Okay," she returned amiably, focusing back on their stuff. She'd totally had his scarf and beanie… and socks. _Why were his socks in my bag?_ Shrugging, she tossed them off to her left, and reached for the padded bag with most of the electronics. "Can I have the laptop?"

"We'll talk about it after I plan your route."

She sighed, scooting over and setting it to her left in a 'share' pile. "Okay." Glancing up, she saw Xu was staring at her disbelievingly. "What?"

"Just like that?" he demanded.

"…Just like what?" she asked dubiously.

"Yes," Lucrezia inserted smoothly from her sleeping bag, digging through her knapsack… probably for her maps.

…Right, she was sure that probably made sense somehow, but she had stuff to do. She'd trust Lucrezia on this one. "Just like that," she agreed, holding up a sweater and trying to decide if it was hers or her brother's. They were pretty close to the same size anymore… and she liked this one. Shrugging, she added it to the share pile.

It wasn't like he wasn't going to debate it with her when he was done anyway.

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**August 11****th**** 198 – Monday – Stuttgart, Germany**

"Hey, lady," Howard greeted cheerfully. "What can I do you for?"

Lucrezia grinned at the euphemism, but decided not to comment on it. "I need an atmosphere drop to Paraguay, and a way back up. Can you make it work?"

The old man whistled lowly. "That'd be a pretty nice little ship now, missy. You promise not to break it, if I loan it out?"

She glanced sideways at Odin – who really was still Heero, in terms of his capacity to blow shit up – before shrugging. "Should be doable." He was turning out to not be too bad at low-key. Besides, there wasn't a whole lot over there to hassle them. "Do you have something that that could be ready to rock and roll in a day or two?"

"Hell, I could swing today if you needed me to, darlin'," the old engineer flirted. "But I'd prefer tomorrow, I guess. You need my help getting up here?"

"We've got travel plans set already," she told him happily. "We'll be in your area a couple hours into your light cycle tomorrow, if that's good."

"We, now?" he asked. "It's not a _big_ boat, missy. Just how much is we?"

"Just two," she assured.

"Oh, I see how it is," he mock whined at her. "This isn't a _romantic_ getaway, is it?"

She laughed, though she was also glad she had the volume low enough that Odin couldn't hear the old lech. "There's nothing like digging through the jungle on a crazed scavenger hunt," she told him in a sweet tone. Though truly, how much of a true jungle it was anymore was debatable. "Can you look into the weather for me, too?"

"Oh, sure, I see how it is," he groused playfully. "I'll email it to you. See you tomorrow, kiddo."

"Thanks." Hanging up, she slipped back over to the bar, and nudged a glass she'd ordered before making the call over at her partner. "Try this."

He considered the yellow liquid for a moment before sipping it. Tilting his head in what seemed to be appreciation, he took another sip. "Are you planning on always plying me with citrus?" he asked curiously.

She laughed, taking the shot of limoncello back for a sip of her own. "Only so long as it's appreciated," she noted. "Feel free to order something else."

"I didn't say it was a bad idea," he pointed out, reaching to take it back.

She let him, grinning… as the bartender set a shot of something else down in front of her.

He frowned at that. "What level of inebriation were we aiming for, again?"

"Not very," she decided. "But I detest beer. I'd rather nurse a shot or two of something stronger." Tasting what had gone down in front of her, she hummed happily, even as she grimaced. "This is good, but, if you want to try, you should wait for the lemon taste to fade. It doesn't go well with chocolate… vanilla?" She considered the glass; the liquid was amber, which certainly didn't give anything away. "It's sweet, at any rate."

"Hn." He considered for a moment, then reached for the bowl of peanuts on the counter to clear his palate. "You don't know what it is?"

"I asked for the limoncello, and for something straight up that was sweet," she admitted. "If I decide I like it, I'll ask him what it is." She took another sip and nodded; that was better. "How's your leg tonight?"

"Not bad. Irritating enough that this seemed like a good idea," he admitted with a vague gesture to the bar, "But not bad either."

She nodded; that had been about her estimation too, which was why she had pointed out the bar when they passed it. "You can have the bathroom to yourself tonight," she told him. "I'll take it in the morning, before we fly out."

He nodded. "I assume everything is good on that front?"

"I would have mentioned it, otherwise," she agreed, offering the glass when he brushed the last of the peanut shell off his hands. "I do hope you know what we're doing once we get there, though. The landscape might not be what you remember."

He nodded as he took the glass, staring at it for a moment. "The first place is… the middle ground, as it were. It should give me an idea of how bad it might be, but should be easy enough to find." He sipped, and frowned. "The second is nearby, and shouldn't be too big of a hassle, once the initial groundwork is done. That's probably all you have time for."

"Alright." She gestured back at her drink. "What do you think?" He shook his head a little, handing it back, and she grinned. "More for me, then." Glancing up at the display, she noted, we could probably get one or two more, but I'd say that's the maxout point. Pick something else out before I do, hm?"

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Munich, Germany – Sarracenia**

"Relena?"

The princess turned to smile at her. "Good evening, Addie." Noticing the other woman's frown, she asked, "What is it?"

Her maid gave her an exasperated sort of look. "Do you know where Dorothy is?"

Relena frowned. "I can find her, I'm sure. What's wrong?"

She raised both her brows. "Well, she seems to have stolen my son again."

"…Again?" Never mind that Dorothy had never expressed any interest in children to her knowledge, but… _again_?

"Two weeks ago, she and Olivia took Danny out to lunch more or less _because_ she said she was babysitting. Then she started helping me in the kitchen some afternoons. Then she offered to watch him the other night so I could have an evening to myself. Two days ago, she disappeared with him most of the day, and suddenly he has new clothes, which I appreciate, but…" She sighed. "I haven't seen my son in five hours, and it's unnerving me."

…Well, that gave at least part of an answer as to what the other woman had been up to, come to think of it. She hadn't been underfoot quite as often, this last week. Honestly, she'd just assumed she was off with Olivia, since their disappearances were beginning to line up rather well. That or with Daniella… who had her nephew with her at least forty percent of the time…

_Huh._ Well, it wasn't as though Dorothy hadn't gone in entirely unexpected directions before. "Let's go find them, then."

As it turned out, Dorothy's favorite room in the house was still her office atrium, and she had managed to collect Mai and the dog at some point as well as the toddler. Hadrian, at roughly two years old, was rather intent on playing with the giant dog, and Dorothy was 'helping' in the loosest sense of the word. Her bodyguard appeared to be mostly focused on paperwork, but all things considered, Relena was incredibly grateful the other woman was there. Mai had half raised her niece and nephew; she actually knew what to _do_ with babies.

"Well look at you, little man," Addie crooned, instantly capturing the boy's attention. The tension seemed to melt off her at the sight of the child. Personally, Relena wasn't entirely sure; that dog was huge. "Are you having fun?"

He gave her a gap toothed grin, waving a handful of the giant canine's dreadlocks. "Esso."

_Esso?_ Come to think of it, she'd never bothered to learn the creature's name.

"Are you hungry?" Addie asked, coming up to kneel next to him and scratch the dog behind the ears.

The baby immediately shook his head, flopping himself _into_ the dog's side, and snuggling deeper with a giggle. "Esso!"

The dog affected to not notice

"He's been gnoshing all afternoon," Mai noted, setting her papers aside and stretching. "Healthy stuff, even some chicken. If you give him a bottle before bed, he'll probably go right down and stay there."

"They were playing with a ball just a minute ago," Dorothy inserted happily. "Hadrian was pushing it to him, and Lorenzo was nosing it back." She tilted her head. "I think he's getting tired, though."

"He does that," Addie agreed, reaching out and tickling her son's belly so he giggled more. "Did he nap?"

"Not as long as you say he does for you, but some."

Relena turned as the floorboards chirped, noticing Mai standing as well, though Dorothy and Addie kept their focus on the child. When Lin poked his head through the door and pointedly met Relena's eyes, Mai sat back down. Relena considered the group on the floor for a moment before shaking her head and moving for the door. It really wasn't any of her concern… on average, she only vaguely noticed that there even _was_ a baby in the house. "What's up?" she asked as she closed the door behind her.

Lin gestured for her to follow him downstairs, biting his lip. "I got a call for you… come on."

She frowned as she moved after him. "A call?" Lin didn't answer the house line, and if it was more personal, people either called her cell or Jake's.

"It's Mitchell," Lin murmured. "I think he wanted to be sure Jake didn't pick up."

_Ooh._ "How is he?" she asked quickly. Then, before he could answer that, "Where's Jake right now?"

"Jake's down in the range with the boys, and… I don't know, Lena." He made a frustrated noise. "He was being damned cagey, but he and I were always more coworkers than friends. He just he said wanted to talk to you."

"Where's the phone?"

"I'm heading to your suite," Lin returned by way of explanation. "It's on me, but I've got it on mute. I figured you'd want some actual privacy… the office and your suite are the only places with the nightingale floors."

"You'll stay," Relena told him firmly. She'd trusted him this far… the only thing she hadn't told him about now was Treize, and she might concede that too, before long. Lin was almost as deep in all this as she was, and he'd been there for each part of it already. "I could use a second opinion, and if someone does come in, we can be talking." After Jake, Lin and Mai were the guards she connected with most on a personal level, and everyone in the complex knew it. With the little domestic party going on in her office, no one would think it was odd if she was spending time with one of he friends in here. As they moved through her antechamber, she whispered, "Check Jake's area while I lock the bathroom."

He nodded and split off from her, then was waiting at the bottom of the staircase for her as she came back down into her closet, holding out the cell. Taking a deep breath, she took it and turned the volume up to max before tapping the mute off. "David?"

"Lena," he greeted warmly, if tiredly. "Hey, Princess. How've you been doing?"

Taking the last few steps down the spiral stairs, she laughed a little. "You know how I'm doing, silly; I'm on television practically every other day. How are _you_?" She glanced at Lin, and he nodded; he could hear fine.

"I'm… okay. Had to get some Remalene and stay on light duty for a bit, but it's mended, now."

Relena closed her eyes as she moved to sit on the small couch she had in her room. Remalene was a metabolism based drug that also amped the immune system… they used it to speed up the healing process; it could heal broken bones in a month instead of three. But, in order to be prescribed, you generally had to either _have_ broken bones or something more severe. She'd taken it for her gunshot wound last year… and Jake had taken it for four separate three week bursts during his recovery from the riot last December. "David…"

"I know, I know," he muttered with a sigh. "It's alright now, though, okay? How is _he_?"

"Moody," she returned instantly. "He's hiding it well for the most part, but he's…" She shook her head a little, glancing to Lin, sitting next to her. He'd actually snarled insults at Hayden seemingly out of nowhere the other day, before disappearing into town for a few hours. When he'd come back, he was calm, but… well, it was a good thing he'd been gone for as long as he had, because it had taken that long to convince their resident geek that his hero didn't actually hate him. "Whatever it was that was bothering him before, it's gotten worse."

"That's mostly what I wanted to talk to you about," Mitchell noted, his tone picking up. "I'm not there right now, so I need you to look after him for me, okay?"

Lin's look suggested he thought this conversation had just turned insane, but Relena just frowned. "What?"

"This time of year is always bad, Lena," the colonel coaxed. "I mean, I think it might be taking an all-time low since 188, but… he gets like this every August. Honestly, the man needs a therapist, but since there's no way that's happening… we make do. He, like… _looks_ for reasons to hate himself in August, and when something upsets him outside of that… sometimes, there's collateral." He sighed. "Last year, it was Jack. This year, it was me. Only, I know he feels like shit about me, when he didn't about Jack, so that's probably making it _worse_. But he's not going to talk to me until he gets over his funk, so I need you to just… be steady, for him, okay?"

"Be steady?" she asked, mind whirling.

"You've always just accepted him, no matter what. That's what he needs more than anything. It's true all the time, honestly, but it's especially this time of year. It's not anything different from what you normally do, that's just how you are, so maybe I shouldn't have even said anything but…" He sighed again. "Just don't forget that he needs you, okay? Don't let him make you think he doesn't, because it would be a lie."

A warmth grew deep in her belly at that. She had believed it before now, and he hadn't given her any reason to doubt… but hearing it was nice too.

"Don't push him on it, but be around _to_ talk to, okay? It doesn't always happen, but sometimes, with Noin, he'd try to talk his thoughts out to her. It's probably the closest he'll ever get to that therapy I mentioned him needing. It probably won't happen anyway, but… You've broken all sorts of rules he kept that I thought weren't ever changing."

"Thank-you, I think," she murmured.

"Only telling the truth, Lena. Either way, I should go… I'll try to talk to you again soon, okay? You can always call if you want, okay?"

"Of course." She pursed her lips. "How long do you think it will be before he talks to you again?"

"I…" He made a frustrated noise. "I don't know. Not to give him excuses, but I really did fuck up, too. It was for all the right reasons, but it's still there. Another month? Maybe three? If he doesn't find a reason to get over that other shit you mentioned, longer, but I'll probably come back and pick another fight if it gets close to five."

She closed her eyes. Another month of this tension, and she might slap him herself… Which, if Mitchell's advice was anything to go by, was probably the worst thing she could do.

She had ignored his advice about Jake once, a year ago, and regretted it. She wasn't going to repeat the venture; his point had been well proven.

"Take care of yourself, David," she told him after a moment. "He might not want to admit it right now, but he needs you too."

The man choked out a short laugh. "Yeah, don't I know it. Take care yourself; all those nobles have fangs and claws as bad as anything I'm facing with these anarchists."

She smiled, resisting the urge to cry. "Don't I know it," she mimicked back at him. "I'll talk to you later."

Once she'd hung up, Lin let out a deep breath. "Well…"

"Well," she agreed when he didn't sound like he was going to continue.

He gave her a helpless look. "Honestly, that made this all about as clear as mud."

_oOo_

* * *

_oOo_

**Stuttgart, Germany**

"Melon," Lucrezia declared, setting the glass back down in front of him.

Odin picked it up tasted again, trying to see if he could come up with something he actually recognized. He'd picked it at random because of the liquid's neon green color, but he hadn't expected something that tasted so… fresh. It was surprisingly mild, despite the burn of the alcohol, but… just fresh.

He didn't have a workable frame of reference for 'melon'. He wasn't even sure he knew what it looked like, honestly. _Might be worth looking into,_

This was the fourth shot glass, but the only one they had actually finished was the first, and Lucrezia was largely ignoring the second, apparently since the flavors of the latter two contrasted too sharply with it. The third… he thought it might be good for cleaning something, but not much else.

This one wasn't bad, though.

"Can I get some kind of cola?" the woman next to him asked, offering the bartender one of her easy smiles. Holding up her hand to give a measure of maybe four centimeters, she added, "About this much, in a glass?"

"You got it," the affable man muttered, quickly grabbing a cup and pouring. "Was going to suggest something like that if you let it sit there much longer."

"It seems like the thing to do," she agreed as he set the glass on the bar and offered her a straw. She glanced his way as she picked up the least favorite of the liquors and poured it into the soda. "You're good with that one, right?"

"I like it," he agreed, watching as she took up the other shot glass and poured it in as well. "You think that will mask it?"

"I know one way to find out," she murmured as she spun the straw through the liquid with one finger. As was usual with any of the motions of her hands, he found the gesture oddly graceful.

Lucrezia, he had decided at some point over the last month, had an appealing fluidity to her, no matter her mood. He hadn't decided if she hadn't had it during the war or if he simply hadn't paid it any attention. He was willing to admit, though, that even if he had picked up on that aspect of her, he wouldn't have bothered to appreciate it. He'd been too focused on… actually, he wasn't sure he had _actually_ been focused on something in particular, but he was more than willing to admit to tunnel vision. Looking back, most of his choices had been distressingly arbitrary, despite his conviction that the meanings were… for lack of a better word, deep.

_So, hindsight, or transparency?_

His decisions were most definitely arbitrary now… but he openly acknowledged it, even actively sought out whimsy for direction if the mood struck him. Maybe the question wasn't so much on whether a thing had meaning or not, but what meaning you decided to give it. And by that standard, you could design your own priority structure instead of simply following the orders of others…

"You're looking thoughtful," Lucrezia noted, sipping delicately from her cup.

"Introspection has become something of a hobby," he agreed, focusing back on his own drink to be sure he wasn't staring at her – that had an alarmingly high rate of occurrence if he didn't consciously subvert the action. "How is it now?"

"Mm, tolerable," she decided, taking a longer sip. "Care to share the insight, or not really?"

He shrugged. "I was just thinking about the past, and how things change," he summed up. "I've never thought things would stay the same, but… I never really tried to look ahead, either." His father had never cared to plan beyond a month or two into the future, and had obviously done fine, but… He was finding, more and more, that only living in the moment limited you to a startlingly narrow view.

Maybe the assassin had just liked to keep things simple, that way, but the more he experienced, the more intolerable the lack of exploration became. Despite the fact that he was coming to realize that he wasn't actually from the colonies, in the regular sense... He didn't seem to be from anywhere else either. The constant changes in scenery he had kept his whole life was… surprisingly static, in a way. It might allow for versatility, but it disallowed outlets for growth, too.

"Change is the only static," he decided after a moment. "But there's too many options to consider directionality as a true factor."

"Mm, very philosophical." She stretched lazily, and his eyes were drawn to her again. "I'd noticed you had a loose sense of permanency, but I can't say I disagree with it. There's a famous quote somewhere about how the only thing predictable about the future is its unpredictability." Yawning, she added, "And the only way to predict the future is to craft it yourself, of course." Lips twisting into a wry smile, she continued, "It rarely goes according to plan, but that doesn't mean it's not worthwhile. After all, in the end of the day, not making a decision is the same as making one." She had a faraway look in her eyes as she gazed out the window to the street. "Not that there's anything wrong with drifting, either, but that doesn't make it any less of an action, when it comes to consequence."

The thought process mirrored his own so well that he smiled, holding up his shot in a cheers motion. "Exactly."

With a mischievous grin, she leaned forward and stole a sip instead of raising her glass to clink against his, and he forced his eyes back to the bottles behind the bar as she licked her lips, focusing on regulating his heart rate.

Chuckling lowly, Lucrezia shook her head. "Introspection became something of a hobby for me too, after _Libra_," she admitted, nibbling at her straw as she tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "I was a wreck, to put it mildly."

"I can relate to that." He took an outright gulp from his glass.

"Mm, to be sure, from what I've gathered." She kicked gently at his stool. "How's the leg, by the way? We've been taking our time, but it's all been pretty high proof too."

"Good," he admitted, testing the muscles and finding them pleasantly relaxed. He'd actually forgotten, for a little while, that it had been bothering him at all.

"Mission accomplished, then," she told him with a wink, tipping her head back and downing half of the fluid in her cup. Shaking her head quickly with a grimace, she set it back down. "I think I'm done for the night, personally."

There wasn't that much of his left… With a shrug, he tipped his head back too and downed it. "Sounds good." Standing, he reached for his wallet. They'd paid before getting the last shot, but then Lucrezia had gotten the soda.

The bartender saw him and waved dismissively. "Don't worry about it."

"Tip," his friend muttered under her breath as she dropped down to her feet.

Odin nodded and retrieved a reasonable amount of cash, leaving it on the counter. The man's returning smile was appreciative and he offered them a wave that Lucrezia returned as they walked out. Each sliding into their coats, they began the short walk back to the motel they'd picked for the night. Lucrezia let out a happy sigh. "It's nice to get some peace and quiet, again," she announced softly. "They're good kids, but that doesn't always mean I don't get the urge to just tie them up and leave them somewhere, sometimes."

A startled chuckle made its way past his lips. Before now, he hadn't thought her bothered by the three they had just finished sending off in different directions. "Hilde was the only one that irritated me," he found himself admitting. Xutao's personality was fairly subdued and unobtrusive, and Marlé… Marlé was generally amusing, even when exasperating.

"Hm, it's all the bickering that gets on my nerves," she explained. "Hilde's usually the source of it, and it's funny at first, but after a while…" She shrugged. "No matter what she can do or how old she's getting, my girl's just as much of a kid as yours, still." She glanced up at him. "Maturity hasn't caught up to the numbers yet, if that makes sense."

It did. He smiled, recognizing something else she meant. "When did I stop being another kid, to you?"

"Hmm…" She thought about it for a minute as they approached their building, and he pulled the key out, not interrupting. As the door opened, she decided, "_Libra_, maybe; you were different, after you joined us on Howard's ship." As he shut and locked the door, she dropped to the bed and crossed her legs, still debating. "It wasn't even a question anymore when you showed up in the Carpathians a few months ago, but I didn't expect you to…" She tipped her head to one side, then met his eyes again. "It's hard to remember you're younger than me, most of the time. I haven't had a real partner, a peer, since I left OZ… maybe since I was fifteen." She shook her head. "Hindsight is a real kick in the behind, isn't it? If I had known what he was really like, then…" She sighed. "Well, it's done, now, at any rate, but that kind of thing never stops hurting all the way, I think."

"No. It doesn't."

Her smile warmed him all the way down to his belly this time, setting off other reactions… but before he could decide what he wanted to do with that, her phone chirped and she let out an excited noise as she twisted to pull it from her pocket.

…That happy sort of squeak was not helping.

She was engrossed in the screen for a long moment, before gesturing for him to sit next to her. "Look…"

Feeling slightly awkward, he did so, leaning in close enough that he could pick up on that lightly floral scent he'd noticed weeks ago, that was beginning to make his head spin now; or maybe that was the effects of the alcohol. Most of the screen was taken by a photo of a newborn wrapped in blue blankets, held in the arms of an older dark-haired man that appeared too focused to have looked up for the camera. The child himself was ugly in the way that he gathered all new babies were, but contentedly asleep. A caption below the photo read: _'Lyle Noin. 7 pounds, 8 ounces'_

_Noin._

"I'm a sister now," Lucrezia murmured, staring at the image with a beautifully soft expression. Unexpectedly, she turned the same on him after a moment. "What I do now, it's for his future. He won't grow up in a world suffering a megalomaniac as its tyrant…" Her focus moved back to the screen. "I'll make sure he won't."

"…He won't," Odin agreed after a moment, unsure what else to say. She had literally only just gotten news of the boy's existence, but this devotion… The possessive way Odin would wrap a heavy shoulder around him when he doubted himself flooded his mind, how he had tousled his hair almost unconsciously when they were walking together, his always constant observation… Before the day of his death, Odin wasn't even sure when the last time he had been away from his father's side had been.

That need to take care of someone, near or far, easy or impossible… that was love, wasn't it? That was _family_… He looked back to the phone, to see she had flipped to a larger image of a exhausted-looking blonde woman holding the child, nonetheless beaming brightly at the camera. The man from before was leaning over her shoulders and you could see his face this time, and its resemblance to Lucrezia's.

_This_ was family… her family.

"I'm going to take a bath," he muttered after another moment, standing. She waved him off distractedly, still focused on the pictures, and he made short work of grabbing his toiletries and retreating into the tiled room. Turning on the water, he sat to think. He didn't have a family anymore, but he'd had a father, once.

_Why didn't I ever look into his death?_ There hadn't been time… There never had been, back then. _It wouldn't have changed anything._ The man had been dead, and that was as straightforward as it got. Something had gone wrong with his end of the job… and he'd been trying to abandon him anyway.

Blinking as the room began to mist, he suddenly realized just how… bitter… he had felt about that.

It hadn't mattered, because Odin had been the one to cut the ties. Not him. He'd resented that… but it wasn't as though there was another option to follow anyway, after his death. That had just made it complete.

But the part that had always bothered him most was that even as he laid dying… he had still cared. That love he had always offered was in his last words, last advice, to always follow his emotions. He had been trying to _leave him_… But he had still wanted his son to be happy.

_…Was he trying to die, that day?_

Looking back, he could honestly say that Odin had always been depressed… It hadn't affected him too badly most of the time, always focusing on the task at hand or on him, pushing the melancholy away…

The more he thought about it, the more viable of an option it seemed. Everything leading up to L3-X18999 had been odd… From an adult's perspective now, he could see that the man had been planning more than a month into the future, meticulously, instead of letting the wind carry him. He had informed him of all the details concerning the trip far earlier than usual… And he had made sure that Odin was far away from him during his part of the job. Too far to get caught in the potential crossfire, but too far to possibly help if the situation turned on him.

Suddenly, there was a bleak familiarity to when he had first handed the gun to Silvia Noventa, fully expecting the action would be his last. Wishing for it, even… for the redemption it might bring him.

Glancing at the water level, he stripped down and eased himself in, unsure of what to do with the revelation. In the end, it really _didn't_ matter; dead was dead. But… More than ever, he was beginning to understand the importance of family. Marlé was his family now, despite the lack of common blood, but Odin had been there first… Odin was the one who had molded him into the person he became, and he knew virtually _nothing_ about him.

He was going to have to change that.

_oOo_

* * *

**_oOo_**

**_End Over the Edge_**

**_oOo_**

* * *

** I was seriously half-tempted to rename this chapter "In which Hilde attempts to annoy Odin into a conclusion, and gets all the wrong results" at one point. It ended up coming out as rather Hilde-bashing in some ways, but I think it's mostly just that she doesn't have a very _mature_ way of handling stress, which, frankly, we've already seen. Her stress response seems to be a hell of a bitch/brat routine, which Odin really isn't sure _how_ to react to. The fact that nothing seems to go as she plans doesn't exactly help. Also, I refuse any claim to Cathy; if you ask me, she's completely in canon, and I have no responsibility for her behavior in this whatsoever. **

** …Feedback would be beyond amazing. I know it sucks for you guys, with my infrequent update speed, but to be honest, it's just as sucky to have it all there in my head and not be able to **_**do**_** anything about it because of time constraints, exhaustion, or just not being able to fins the right context. I try to make up for it with chapter length and quality, for what it's worth. **

** Catch you guys later. I just got home after working (for no pay) a long, busy shift, and I need to shower before I pass out and repeat the process come morning. Motivation is running pretty damn high, so Hopefully I'll be able to get the next piece out in a month or so; God help me, but it shouldn't pan out as massive as this, and should come through a lot faster. As mentioned earlier, I've got a handful of people consistently rerouting my thought process back to this now on a near daily basis. **

** Ja. **


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